Clipped
by Xazz
Summary: There are freemen, and then there are slaves. Sometimes they're one in the same, and other times there are those who are always free, even when someone tries to clip their wings. -complete-
1. Kennels

Another kinkmeme fill. I know I have a lot of fics going on at once. I'm either working on them currently or have some writers block.

I couldn't just leave this prompt alone though. This was the first part of the prompt: "Pets" are common in the world. Leonardo and Malik regularly go and purchase pets from the market, rehabilitate them, and gives them their freedom back. The rest is kinda spoilery, so you'll just have to find out!

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><p>The others gave the three space, though it was more for the act of self preservation than anything else really since the eldest had sent one of them to the doctor for harassing his brother. None of them wanted anything to do with them because of it though they didn't seem to mind either and preferred to keep their heads above the tide of depression and kept to their trio ignoring the others. It worked well for both parties who wanted nothing to do with the other.<p>

The tiled floor was cold under them but none of them gave it a notice, they'd already grown used to and accepted the discomfort using each other to stay warm. It had been a long time since their… captivity had started and they were used to such treatment. Except of course their current keeper had taken it as a good idea to bind Altair's foot to the wall, especially after he'd almost killed one of his other precious pieces of merchandise for getting to handy with Desmond. They weren't allowed weapons that didn't stop him from beating the shit out the man who'd last they'd finally seen of him was of him walking around with a cast on his leg.

They were a handle for their keeper. Or at least Altair and Ezio were, and it was only for that reason that he kept them together. He knew the older brothers were to protective of the younger to just let anything happen to him or let him be taken away. Because of this though they'd yet to be bought, to much cash for a bad tempered dog, a proverbial child, and a pretty boy that always seemed to draw in the buyers. None of them wanted the first though even if Desmond and Ezio seemed perfectly fit to not put up a fight (or at least not as much of one compared to the eldest).

Eventually something would have to break.

—

Leo didn't exactly _enjoy_ the practice he participated in, but at the same time he was doing the best he could to ensure not every soul there was lost. "Stop that," he tutted at Salai who was fussing over part of Leo's clothes. "It's fine," he added when the younger man frowned. Salai was one of the "pets" Leo had taken in and couldn't seem to get rid of. Not a surprise really since Leo treated his so well, though it was always with the intention of them eventually _leaving_. Of course for someone like Salai it was more difficult to reengage with society after the owner before Leo had cut his tongue out and sent him back to the kennels. Such a sad fate though not terribly uncommon unfortunately.

"I'm expecting Malik to come around later, if he comes over and I'm not here see him inside and tell him I'll be alone shortly," he told Salai who nodded, "And don't leave the house when I'm gone," that was a pointless request and Leo knew it but he made it anyways. Salai was a house pet and knew better, even if Leo would never actually hurt him more than enough others had already done so in his stead. "I'll be back before lunch," he said finally and left, Salai waved as he did standing in the doorway but didn't venture outside.

Leo tucked himself into his car and headed for the outskirts of the city where the legal kennels were. Illegal transactions were punishable by a life sentence, or death by the state since all pets were there for a reason and were monitored by the government. While there were little to no laws protecting them in the care of a master they at least kept the kennels tightly regulated so disease didn't spread nor were they mistreated by the handlers. After all, no one wanted to buy someone who was sick or weak and could hardly stand up on their own two feet.

It always made his gut twist when he went to the kennels. They were just so depressing, that others could permit the buying and selling of human life. But he knew it had been in practice for a long time and very little could be done to change it when it was an idea championed by the people and allowed for such general prosperity. What was the cost of a few lives for the happiness of the populous?

He pulled up to one of the kennels and a pet, another mute (they were becoming more popular lately), who offered him a trained smile to come inside one of them. Leo allowed himself to be guided in. "Hello sir," a freeman sat behind a desk in the front room, she offered him a smile as well as he went over to the desk, "How can I help you?"

"I'm here to purchase," was all he said.

"Okay," she said brightly, "Are you looking for a particular need?" she asked, "Or a gender?"

"Not in particular no," he shook his head.

"Then a young one perhaps to train yourself?" these were all the standard questions but they still made Leo uncomfortable.

"I'd just like to see them for myself if that's okay," Leo said.

"Yes, of course. Can I see your ID please?" he handed it over and after typing something into her computer she pulled out some papers from behind the raised counter on her desk and handed him back his card. "Let me just send this back with your request and I'll be right back," she hopped to her feet and went through a door just behind her desk. Leo tapped his fingers on the desk looking around the front lobby. The mute who'd brought him in was sitting at the door, head tilted down, hands in his lap and Leo frowned to himself as the door opened again. The original woman was accompanied by a man with a preposterously large mustache and Leo almost laughed at its ridiculousness but instead refrained. "This is Mr. Letch, he'll show you our wares," she said chipperishly.

"Thank you," Leo nodded and followed Mr. Letch, obviously a freeman, to another door and he held it open for him before they went inside.

"Anything in particular you want?" Mr. Letch asked.

"Just in general," Leo said. The place smelled clean at least, though it was obvious that it had been a few days since anyone there but Mr. Letch and the other handler on duty had had a bath.

"Ah, just a browser," Mr. Letch smirked.

"With the intention to buy," Leo refrained from letting his words turn into a growl. Mr. Letch just nodded.

The pets were lined up against the wall, most sitting on the padded wall run, some talking amidst each other, so not all of them were mute. They were kept there by a chain connected from the wall to collar by a powerful magnet which was only engaged when buyers were present. Leo looked over a few, they all seemed in fairly good shape, that was something at least but he'd yet to make up his mind on anything.

Then he came to three men who were very obviously spaced away from the others. The reason became clear a moment later when Leo saw another tether attached to one of their ankles. It was a practice used with particularly aggressive pets who didn't want to listen or were violent. It was always a challenge to take in one of those but Leo found it rewarding. His eyes slid over the three, the youngest of them was looking at him; strait at him actually and it unnerved him. Most kennel pets didn't meet the eyes of potential buyers, if anything they tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. He moved his eyes off the starer to the third one, the one with the longer hair that was slightly matted from not being washed well. He was very good looking, shame he was stuck here.

"May I?" Leo asked Mr. Letch.

"These three?" he asked curiously. "I wouldn't trust that one," he pointed at the man with the ankle cuff who looked up and glared at Mr. Letch. "Put your head down mutt, no one's looking at cha'," Mr. Letch snapped and he got a feral growl in reply though it didn't just come from the other one cuffed, but from the long haired one as well.

"Are they a set?" Leo asked getting the hander's attention back on him before something happened.

"Yep," he nodded, "Want a closer look?"

"If you please," Leo nodded slightly and Mr. Letch moved down to the gate in the low fence that kept the pets from the buyers and went over to the three before undoing one of their neck restraints. Leo was mildly surprised when he didn't pick the quiet starer, but the pretty one. Usually in sets handlers showed off the most docile one, which he obviously was.

"Here you are," Mr. Letch presented him in front of Leo for inspection. Yes, very handsome up close, probably supposed to be one of those "pleasure pets", the idea of such things disgusted Leo though he knew how common the practice was. His hands had been put into special restraints on the fence so the buyer could touch as much as they wanted without the worry of a pet lashing out badly.

"Why this one?" Leo asked mildly taking the man's chin in his hand and lifting it so he could see the choker-like collar around his throat that bore his name; Ezio. "That other one seemed much calmer," and Ezio sneered at Leo. Yes, definitely an attitude, though no where near as bad as that other one.

"Don't need to make them unnecessarily upset," Mr. Letch replied, hands on his large utility belt, one of them resting on the pommel of his baton.

"Upset?" Leo looked away from Ezio for a moment.

"They're brothers," was all Mr. Letch said. Well that made sense, they all did look rather similar. "Altair and Ezio get all testy when they're poor baby brother gets taken away," and Mr. Letch laughed. Ezio replied by pulling his head from Leo's hand and spitting at Mr. Letch. "Oi!" he snapped and made to strike the young man across the face.

"Hold," Leo said putting his arm out to stop him, "I may buy these and I would not appreciate you damaging them," he glared at Mr. Letch hotly not having to pretend anger since he really was.

"My apologies sir," Mr. Letch backed off immediately.

"I will have to look at the others first though. I'm done," he turned away from Ezio and Mr. Letch dragged him back with his brothers. He looked over the rest of the 'stock' but couldn't forget the brothers, his mind kept going back to them even as he looked over several other men and women, even a few children.

"Should I set up a meeting with the boss on a purchase?" Mr. Letch asked once Leo had finished looking over everyone.

"Perhaps, how much are the brothers?" he asked.

"Those three? Hmm," he consulted a roll of paper from one of his belt pouches, "Boss has them at a ground price of twelve."

"Twelve hundred, that isn't so bad," Leo could easily afford that.

"No no sir, I'm sorry, I meant twelve thousand," Leo balked, choked on his own tongue and couched. Such expense! No way he could manage that, it was a ridiculous sum and his feelings must have shown on his face because Mr. Letch laughed, "That Altair there has caused the boss a lot of grief and money," he shrugged helplessly. Altair must have been the one in the cuff. "Any others I could interest you in?" Mr. Letch asked.

Ridiculous pricing aside Leo had come here with the intention of helping _someone_, "Perhaps that one Francesco boy," Leo said thinking back on it. He hated seeing children in the kennels, but it was the way life worked and some kennels did nothing but sell children. He had bought several in the past few years, sent them all to boarding school on his own dime so they didn't have to stay in such a place. Children also tended to be cheaper to buy (though they were always the most expensive to care for).

"I'll set it up with the boss," he led Leo out of the show room into a waiting room with two doors, one led back out to the lobby, the other to the keeper's office. Leo sat in one of the chairs and didn't have to wait long until he was allowed in. It was a painless process since Leo had such a clean record (one they'd been looking up while he'd been going over the merchandise) and Leo handed over the cost for the boy without a fuss. He signed the paperwork and once that was done only had to wait in the lobby for a few minutes before he was brought out.

As they walked out to Leo's car he asked, "Do you have a last name Francesco?"

"Melzi, sir," he swallowed, well at least he could talk, which more than could be said for others.

Leo opened the car door for him and the child climbed in, "Well Francesco Melzi, I hope you enjoy your stay at my home," he said pleasantly and closed the door, Francesco gave a small, shy, uneasy smile as Leo got into the driver's seat.

—

Malik and Salai were playing checkers when Leo returned home. Francesco seemed much more energetic than when Leo had first met him, probably because he realized that Leo was a nice master. "Sorry I kept you waiting my friend," Leo said.

"Shhhh," Malik said sharply and Leo chuckled helplessly as he bounced one of his red pieces around the board capturing three of Salai's markers. The younger man glared at Malik. "You have no head for this game boy," Malik told him smartly and added those last three to the now complete collection of black pieces. "This your new one then Leo?" Malik finally turned from the game and peered at Francesco from behind his glasses.

"Yes."

"You really have to much of a soft spot for children Leo, one day you're going to over stretch yourself," Malik said standing and coming over to them. He crouched and held out his hand to the boy, "Hello there, my name is Malik, what's yours?" he asked with one of those rare smiles he saved only for certain people.

"Francesco Melzi," said the boy taking his hand.

"I did see some others there but-" Leo bit his lower lip.

"But what?" Malik asked looking up at his friend still holding Francesco's hand.

"It was outrageous!" Leo burst out, "Three men for twelve thousand cash!"

"Just three?" Malik's brows went up. "Were they special or something?"

"One had a temper, I'm guessing he did damage to another and so the price went up to help cover the cost, another I'm sure was being marketed as a bed warmer," safe within his own home Leo could rage over the system as much as he wanted without getting strange looks. "The third, an addition I'm sure. They were brothers, apparently and didn't like being separated."

"You're getting really worked up about this," Malik noted.

"Wouldn't you?" Leo snapped and Francesco shrunk away. "Oh, I'm sorry Francesco," he calmed down immediately seeing he'd scared the boy. "Salai," he called, "would you mind giving our newest guest a bath and finding him something clean to wear?" Salai nodded and gently took him from Malik. Francesco trusted him more readily than Leo or Malik because it was obvious that like him Salai was a little pet.

"Calm down Leo," Malik reminded him, "We can only do so much."

"It's just so frustrating," Leo pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, brows furrowing.

"I know how you feel," Malik reminded him.

"I wish I'd had the money for them," he sighed.

"Leo if you could you'd have the money for _all_ of them," Malik joked though at the same time was totally serious.

"But I mean those brothers especially," Leo said earnestly, "No one should have to be a pleasure pet," he said the word with clear distaste. "And it was obvious that they both just wanted to protect their younger brother," he rubbed his face with both hands with a groan.

"I could help you," Malik said.

"Excuse me?"

"You seem so intent on them," Malik shrugged, "If you want I could help you get them."

"Malik I could never ask you to do that," Leo said.

"Oh shut up," Malik rolled his eyes at the blonde, "You always offer to help me."

"But it's twelve thousand Malik, that is ridiculous."

"It is," Malik nodded, "It seems like a good cause to me," he added.

"Do you even have that?"

Malik gave his friend a look, "I have my ways," was all he said and smiled slightly when Leo beamed at him and hugged him tightly.


	2. Rifter

There is so much I love about this AU you guys don't even know... I just want to write stories in this universe because it is probably one of my favorites along with the Laws of the Game AU (omg so many plot bunnies on that one) or Two Eagles, which are probably my other two faves. I love dystopia futures and finally getting to write one in the AC universe... unf.

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><p>It had been five weeks since Leo had first seen the three brothers at the kennel. Sadly he'd missed his chance to rescue them since by the time Malik had transfered the money he said he would to him and it had cleared the bank they'd been bought. The event had led to a lot of ranting at Malik because of Leo's friends he was the only one who would listen. The others were all perfectly content to allow the system to go on as it always did. He could have said these things to Salai but it would have been beating a dead horse, and the young man couldn't answer anyways, at least Malik could make conversation and eventually talk him off the cliff.<p>

He was still bitter about it to despite telling Malik he wasn't. He hated saying he would do something and never do it despite the fact that he was a chronic procrastinator. Things like this though, that toyed with human lives, these things he didn't put off.

Leo was out again at the kennels. As much as he hated the system and his own ineptness sometimes he reminded himself that he still did good things. It was because of him that Francesco was learning to read after all, getting him up to date on what he should know before Leo sent him to a school where he sent the other children he provided for. He tried to never visit the same kennel each time he came and over the past few years had made his way up and down the Pound a couple times.

He was in one now that took in mostly hurt pets that owners no longer wanted, fixed them up and sold them for a higher profit. They tended to be less expensive if damaged and many of the ones on display were mute or had lost a limb or had some other disfunction that compromised their worth.

He paused in front of one man who was slumped against his own knees, arm in a brace and sling. "This way sir, we have plenty of-

"I want to see that one please," Leo pointed at the man in the sling, there was something terribly familiar about him.

"He's a new one sir and badly injured, are you sure-

"I said I want to see that one," Leo gave the man a firm look.

"Of course sir," the handler nodded and went to the man against the wall before propping him to his feet.

Leo blinked at what he saw when the handler brought him forward. He'd been right! But in a way he wished he hadn't. It was one of the brothers, Ezio, and he looked like hell. One of his eyes was swollen shut and purple, the other a fading green bruise. There was another bruise on his jaw and a cut had been made on the right side of his face cutting both his lips. But the cut looked old and had been healed, though it had definitely not been there the first time Leo had seen him. He stood at a slump and unlike before didn't meet Leo's eyes, instead stared at his chest, his hurt arm tucked in close to his chest. Leo didn't want to think of what he'd look like under his clothing if his face was so bruised.

"I'd like this one," Leo said without hesitation.

"Sir we-

"I will talk to your boss personally about it," Leo told him sternly.

"Of course sir," the handler nodded and put Ezio back.

The handler led him to the boss's office and Leo had to wait through three other transactions before he got a chance to talk to the kennel keeper. The woman was reluctant to let Ezio go since she obviously knew what he could be marketed as and a hurt pet was significantly less expensive then one at full health. She'd bought him from his old master for cheap because of his condition and she didn't seem keen on selling him at an even lesser price then she'd gotten him. Leo however finally was tired of haggling with the bitch and agreed to pay half the price she'd ask for him at full health (which was vastly more than he was worth at the moment). She liked that idea quite a bit and Leo was pleased when the transaction was finally complete.

One of the handlers helped Ezio to Leo's car. Before leaving Leo turned to him and asked, "What's your name?"

A growl rippled from Ezio's chest but he did respond, "Ezio."

"Ezio what?"

"What does it matter to you?" he spat and Leo's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting his voice. He was from the Rift, that much was obvious by his accent and it was a miracle he could even understand Leo at all. The two shouldn't even speak the same language, but obviously Ezio had been in Leo's country enough to know it. As if to prove Leo's silent eureka right Ezio leaned back into the seat, looking out the window and muttered to himself in a tongue Leo didn't know though he guessed he was cursing.

—

After seeing to Ezio's well being when they returned home, leaving him in Salai's care since it was very obvious Ezio didn't trust Leo at all (and only Salai a bit more), Leo quickly pinged Malik. It took several tries to get through to him before a placeholder appeared. "What?"

"I'm sorry, were you asleep?" Leo asked his excitement momentarily bottled at hearing Malik's grumbled hello. He walked into his studio, he needed to get some other work done and he knew that if Ezio needed anything Salai would get it for him.

"I was," Malik yawned.

"I'm sorry," and only as a fleeting thought he wondered what Malik was doing sleeping so late, it was past noon by now.

"I was about to get up, what is it?" and could hear Malik shuffling about his room probably getting dressed.

"What do you know about the people from the Rift?"

There was a long silence, "Why?" he asked slowly.

"Remember those brothers I told you about weeks ago?"

"The ones I was going to help you get? Yes, what of it?"

"I found one," he said.

"Really? Just one?"

"Badly hurt too," Leo lamented.

"Did you get him?"

"Of course I did!" Leo snapped.

"Right, dumb question, what's he got to do with the Rift?"

"He's from there. I could tell from his accent."

"He spoke? Spoke our tongue?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over in a few minutes, I want to see him," there was a strange tone to Malik's voice but Leo ignored it.

"Do you know anything about them?" he asked and could hear Malik throwing things together to get ready to leave his home and barked something at one of his own pets for leaving _toys_ on the floor. And Malik said Leo had a soft spot for children. Hardly.

"Just what everyone else does."

"And by everyone else you mean those creepy friends of yours," Leo made a face.

"They aren't creepy and they aren't my friends. I just work with them," Malik huffed. "I'll be over shortly."

"Fine," and Leo terminated the connection.

Thirty minutes later Francesco found him in his studio telling him Malik was here. "That was quick," he told Malik.

"I would have been here _faster_ but traffic wasn't cooperating," Malik said shrugging.

"And then you never would have gotten here because you were _speeding_," Leo said giving him a look.

"My driving aside. Can I see him?" Malik asked hopefully.

"He's with Salai, right Francesco?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Salai was getting him some new clothes when Mr. Malik showed up," said the boy.

"Good," Leo nodded. They heard a yelp from somewhere in the house and the two men made a b-line for it, hastening when someone started yelling in a language very much not their own. Leo opened the door it was coming from to see Ezio bent over himself clutching his arm tightly to his chest, very obviously in pain and Salai trying to help him. "What's going on in here?" Leo demanded. Both younger men looked at him and Salai waved his hands in sign telling he'd been trying to help Ezio but the idiot had banged his arm then had yelled at him! Leo strode into the room, Malik following him, "You're hurt?" he asked Ezio, "Let me see," he ordered.

He seemed reluctant to than thought better of it and offered his arm doing his best not to jostle the splint on his forearm or wrist. Leo took it gently, whatever he'd hit had agitated it and the muscle around the, obviously, freshly set bone was starting to swell. "Salai, go get some ice for this," he told the mute who nodded and left. "You need to be more careful Ezio," he said gently.

"My, he certainly is damaged isn't he," Leo glanced at Malik when he came over. His friend was frowning tightly at Ezio's bruised face. Ezio shrunk back from him, "It's okay," he said calmly. "You said he spoke?" he turned to Leo now.

"Yes," Leo nodded still holding onto Ezio's arm and it made it so the man couldn't get to far away without hurting himself, which he didn't seem inclined to do. "And of course you heard him just now," he added.

"Say something," Malik said.

"What is that thing on your face?" Ezio squinted at him.

Malik blinked, startled and of course raised his hand to his face, even taking off his glasses to inspect it, "Is there something there?" he asked Leo when he didn't feel anything.

Leo was laughing, "I think he meant your glasses Malik," he said. When Malik looked back indeed Ezio was looking at Malik's hand that held his glasses. "Have you never seen someone with them Ezio?" he asked who shook his head. To be truthful Leo hadn't met anyone but Malik who wore them and actually needed them like he did. Most people had their eyes corrected as soon as any problems were detected and if they did wear them they were purely decorative. But Malik being Malik was to stubborn to get his sight corrected, it went along with some other paranoia he had, one of them being letting things to close to his face.

"Interesting," Malik said cleaning his glasses quickly and pushing them back onto his nose. "And you were right, he is from the Rift," he looked at Ezio curiously and he pulled back before Malik drew away when Salai came back in with a bag of ice.

"There we are," and Leo guided Ezio over to a place to sit, putting his arm up on the rest and Ezio made a noise of pain when Leo lay the ice across his arm. "This will help with the swelling," he said. Ezio just said nothing and looked at the floor.

Malik pulled Leo away, "Did you find out what happened to him?"

"Not yet, the kennel keeper you know couldn't tell even if I did ask and I haven't asked him yet."

"I'd like to hear how he got here in the first place," Malik added. "Rifters are barbarians," Leo hated to agree but he did regardless. "And you said he had brothers right?"

"Yes, two of them," Leo nodded.

"How did someone even manage to get them here? They usually aren't allowed across the border because of national security," Malik frowned, troubled but at the same time Leo could see him thinking. "What the hell is he doing here?" he asked suddenly throwing his hands up.

"You can ask him. But later!" he quickly put his hand on Malik's chest before he went and did just that. "Once he's feeling better," he said sternly.

Malik sighed as if Leo was taking away a favorite toy, "Fine," he pouted.

—

Taking care of Ezio was like taking care of a cat. Unless he allowed it he didn't like to be close to people and he slept a lot in the strangest places that Leo was sure were uncomfortable, especially with his injuries. But there was never any complaints from him, non voiced at least and in fact the younger man spoke rarely at all and only seemed able to tolerate Francesco's presence for any length of time. Leo had no doubt that was because of his own brother who was still… Leo didn't even know where. He'd yet to get the story out of the Rifter about where he'd acquired such bruising and how he and his siblings had even gotten into the country for that matter!

Eventually the brace on his hand came off and he moved without hinderance. Leo liked to watch him, it was just interesting to see him do simple things like walking because he didn't even act like someone Leo was used to. Everything about him was foreign and a bit strange, even his walk which was practically a prowl, a bit of a swagger to a stalking crawl. He never saw Ezio smile instead his face was always blank, or he was frowning or scowling and the closest look he came to content was when he hung out with Francesco and his lips wouldn't frown at all and were just neutral. But even that neutrality hinted at a smile, or more probably a smirk and Leo could only guess that under different circumstances Ezio would be a lady killer.

Of course Ezio didn't trust him though, that was very obvious, he barely trusted Salai and Francesco and was careful when he ate his food or walked into a room. He did as he was told at the very least which Leo was grateful for since while he had dealt with problems before he didn't always enjoy it. Of course the rewards in the end always outweighed the difficulties but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

He'd at least found a good temporary use for Ezio once his arm had healed enough to take off the brace. The man could sit unmoving for hours without even seeming to grow tired. It was a bit of a blessing for Leo since it meant he basically had an in home model for his drawings and didn't have to hire one. He had used Salai but the poor mute didn't like sitting still for more than a few minutes which drove Leo _insane_. But not Ezio, Leo would ask him to be a specific pose and he would just stay there until Leo told him otherwise. He had no idea where Ezio had gotten that sort of will power, especially when some of the poses weren't exactly comfortable or involved standing.

It was during one of these sessions that Ezio actually spoke to him, rare that he spoke in the first place, rarer still that it was in Leo's tongue. "Leo," he said not facing him to not ruin Leo's drawing.

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing."

Ezio twisted his head around to look at him, "Nothing? That still means the same thing I think it means doesn't it? You people haven't come up with some new contrived meaning," Leo was speechless by the amount of words Ezio had said. It was literally more than he'd spoken the three weeks he'd already been here. What was even more surprising was his vocabulary! Where had he learned to speak Leo's tongue? He was just a Rifter, Rifters couldn't… well didn't speak his language.

"No, it is still the same, unless I was not aware of it as well," he offered Ezio a smile but didn't get one in return.

"Then what will become of me?"

"Once I feel you're ready, I'll let you go," he said.

At that Ezio laughed, and it was mocking and ugly, Leo didn't like it at all and it made him frown. He spoke something in that tangled tongue of his shaking his head, laughing without smiling before resuming the pose Leo had asked him to take. "There is no place in this country for someone like me. I am not an idiot," he said.

"I didn't say you were," Leo huffed.

"Then perhaps you should not act like one," his eyes darted to Leo though he was once more as still as a statue. "I know what I am to you people. I might as well be a feral dog in this country."

Leo's mouth worked but he had no come back. It was true. Rifters weren't accepted here, or anywhere really. No one wanted them and they were only accepted in the Rift where there were others like them. Leo tried not to think about the stories the media told about Rifters, that they were wandering gangs of murderers and cannibals that attacked anything in their territory and didn't know the ways of the Father of Understanding, making them stupid and barely better than animals. Ezio wasn't like that though. He was clever and very obviously cunning. He had sharp eyes and didn't seem violent, at least not when Leo was around and he was kind to Francesco. Still it was hard to ignore a lifetime of prejudice for just one example.

"Well you are welcome here," Leo finally said meaning every word. Ezio didn't respond and Leo turned back to his work with a bit of a frown. After several minutes, the only sound being Leo's pencil on paper Leo put down his work again and pulled his Operator towards him clicking through a few screens before putting it back to the side where the red 'Rec' button glowed in the very middle of the touch screen. "How did you get here Ezio?" he asked picking up his work again. He asked it mildly to not arouse suspicion.

"Is that a request, or an order?" he growled.

"I would like it to be an request," Leo said patiently keeping his voice steady as he carefully started defining the muscles along Ezio's rib cage, mindful of the multitude of scars on his body that just added to the overall landscape.

"And if I don't answer?"

"I would like you to."

"I owe you no explanation," he said as if the matter was final.

"I would think you owe quite a bit to a man who saved you from becoming a sex toy," Leo said.

Ezio chuckled mirthlessly and spoke to himself in his twisted tongue before saying, "My brothers and I were kidnapped."

Leo hadn't been expecting that, "Why?" Ezio only shrugged. "How did they get you into the country?"

"We were drugged. I only remember waking up here after an ambush where I can only assume the rest of my family was killed. Altair and Des are all I have… had," he corrected the tensing.

Leo swallowed, "Are they dead?"

"Maybe? Probably?" he shrugged again, "I wouldn't know. I haven't seen Altair in a month or Des since I was brought here," and he shifted ever so slightly in his pose to remain comfortable, the one movement his body had made since they'd started two hours ago.

"What happened to them?" No answer, "Do you remember when I met you?"

"Yes, you bought Francesco instead, not surprising. Our keeper was trying to make back all the money Altair made him lose."

Leo was actually a bit surprised he could remember such a brief meeting from two months ago. It just reminded Leo he wasn't the media's version of a Rifter, he was Ezio. "I tried to come back and buy you, but someone already had," Leo told him.

"You did?" Leo looked up at his work, Ezio was looking at him again, his brow furrowed. "Why?"

"You did not deserve to be there," Leo said simply. "What happened to you? How did you end up in such a state?"

Ezio was silent for a long time and Leo was sure he'd crossed the threshold of the tiny amount of trust Ezio had in him. "The man who bought us was not kind like you are Leo," he finally said. "And that is all you need to know," Leo's heart sank. He had crossed the line and though he tried to engage Ezio in more conversation the Rifter refused to give anything else up. Eventually Leo's frustration with Ezio led him to grow frustrated with his work and he proclaimed he was done. He turned off the recording feature on his Operator as Ezio wordlessly put his clothes back on and left.

He sighed looking at the wave format on the screen, clipped off the end which was a lot of silence other than Leo asking a question he didn't get an answer to. When he'd finished he sent it along to Malik who had been bugging him about getting a chance to talk with the young Rifter.


	3. Unspoken

It's a dystopia you guys, of course it's ganna be sad.

And people have asked where I get my prompts from. Kinkmeme, all the AC kinkmeme. Other than Sunday and Eagles and Angels all my fics have been born because of someone requesting something over on the kinkmeme. Now where I go with them is entirely up to me and a lot of them have been taken far beyond their original prompt, like Two Eagles and Flocking Movement. Those two have exceeded their prompts XD The AC kinkmeme is forkinsocket. livejournal. com but really only go there if A: you like yaoi or B: you're freaking old enough to go there! There is some... yeah there's some stuff over there that is really **REALLY** NSFW.

* * *

><p>Leo came home from meeting with a client to the surprise, not exactly unwelcome in any way of course, of Malik in his home. He was curious as to why his friend was there but he didn't give up his secrets except to say that he would love to stay for dinner and so Leo acquired a dinner guest. As usual he set Ezio's plate outside in the small garden Leo had, he preferred it out there then inside and most nights (unless it was raining) slept in the hammock had hung out there for reading purposes. Malik didn't talk about anything of great importance though he did mention the recording Leo had sent him in passing saying it was very interesting but not much else besides.<p>

Of course Leo was happy to see his friend, but sometimes, like now, he could be the last thing Leo wanted to deal with an was happy to finally see him go. He stayed up late that night in his studio seeing all of his household to sleep while not getting any of it himself till early in the morning.

He was about to turn in when he got a ping, it was a message from Malik. Attached to it was an audio file, one far bigger than the one Leo had initially sent him. Sleep forgotten as curiosity got the better of him he quickly opened the file and pressed play. "Leo, obviously this is Malik. I knew you wouldn't approve of me doing this, but I did it anyways. After you sent me that file it got me thinking, perhaps this will answer some of your questions as well," Malik said and then there was a pause. "You're name is Ezio right?" there was silence as an answer and Leo wanted to yell at Malik. He'd told Malik he'd let him talk to Ezio when he thought he was ready for it! Damn that man sometimes!

"I was wondering if we could talk?"

"Why should I talk to you?" Ezio growled.

"How old are you?" Leo's brow furrowed and he realized that this must be a part that had been spliced together. Whatever Malik had said or done had been cut out.

He couldn't think on it for to long because Ezio was speaking though he seemed hesitant as if the number was clumsy on his tongue, "Twenty-two."

"Leo told me you have two brothers," obviously there was a nod for he continued, "What are their names?"

"My older brother is Altair, and my younger one is Desmond, Des," he added at the end.

"How old were they?"

"Altair was twenty-six, Des was one and seven-

"What?"

There was some muttering on Ezio's part before he said, "A decade and seven years then, I don't know your stupid word for it."

"Seventeen," Malik said firmly.

"Yes that."

"You speak our tongue very well, how long have you been here?"

"Four years? Five years?" he could imagine the shrug.

"That is a long time."

"Yes," Ezio said softly.

"What happened to you before Leo picked you up?"

"-He cut us so we matched," another splice. Whatever Malik had left out was killing him! "-Said since we were dogs we might as well act the part."

"What was his name?"

"Rodrigo?" the name made Ezio's speech stumble a bit over the foreign word. "Some big shot, maybe government, I don't know, I don't pay attention to what you people do."

"What happened to your brothers?"

"Altair wouldn't break. He was the oldest of course, braver than me and when we inevitably did something wrong he'd take our beatings for us. He promised when we first realized our fate that no matter what he'd protect us, because he was the head of family now and that is what our father would have done."

There was a long pause before in a soft voice Malik asked, "And what happened next?"

"We plotted to escape. Almost did it. But something happened, only Altair managed to get away, Des and I were taken back. They broke my arm, beat us both to within inches of our lives and took Des away."

"-Said what was the good of cutting his tongue out since he couldn't scream," Leo pressed his hand to his mouth. He didn't even to hear what Malik had taken out to understand and his heart broke. "I… I couldn't protect him like Altair did. Once they knew I knew what they did to him they sent me back to a kennel. Now I'm here."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry does nothing!" Ezio suddenly snarled and startled both Leo and Malik since the recording of Malik's voice gave a little yelp. "They did unspeakable things to my baby brother and probably the only family I have is dead! You can be sorry all you-" a strange word jumped into the normal speech, no doubt it was a swear word "-want to be but it still happened. And I'm stuck here. I can't do anything. I'm useless," and Leo's heart broke further.

There was obviously a splice into the next question and Leo could only imagine it was Malik trying to council Ezio. "What do you think of Leo?"

"He's nice, I suppose," he could imagine the shrug.

"Do you trust him?"

"Would you trust a man who can buy your soul?"

"He prefers to free those he buys then keeping them to himself," Malik explained. "And he healed you didn't he?" Silence, "But you're right, you have no real reason to trust him. Though he isn't your last master is he?"

"He isn't," Ezio admitted softly.

"He wants to help you-

"I'm a… Rifter," it was obviously not the word he was used to using to refer to himself as. "There is nothing he can do."

"You won't let him."

"I am not stupid," Ezio hissed, "I have seen enough of that shit you call news to know your views of us. We're monsters, no one wants a monster."

Malik chuckled, "Monsters are Leo's specialty."

"I don't like talking about my masters, former or current," Ezio growled and very obviously the conversation was over.

Leo waited for more but when he looked he saw that was all there was. He actually cursed. Malik you idiot what had you done? He tried to ping him but didn't get a reply. He grabbed his hair in frustration. How the hell had Malik gotten Ezio to open up like that? He'd spent three weeks trying to get Ezio to have such a conversation but then Malik came in, said something or another and had gotten _all that_ out of Ezio. It made him feel untrustworthy. He hadn't done anything to Ezio that appeared harmful, he just wanted what was best for him, as he did everyone who came in through his doors from a kennel.

He sighed and picked up his Operator with a deep frown before taking himself and it out to the side garden. There a bit off in the hammock, illuminated only by moonlight, slept Ezio without a blanket or pillow of any kind. He wondered briefly if he'd like some but then realized it was a foolish idea; if he wanted one he would ask for one since he didn't have a problem of telling Leo of things he needed even if such requests were far from frequent.

He leaned against the door way watching him for several minutes before he stiffened when Ezio raised himself up from sleep. He was looking right at Leo and he shivered. Despite the distance and the darkness Leo knew he was doing it too and for a moment it seemed like his eyes flashed, glowed golden and then faded away as he slumped back into the hammock as if he'd never woken. Only once he'd appeared to go back to sleep did Leo leave the doorway, closing the door with a bit of a trembling hand. There was still so much to the Rifter he didn't know, and all of it seemed a bit terrifying to him.

—

The next day Leo tried to confront Malik about what he'd done but he couldn't seem to get in contact with his friend. He knew Malik was purposefully avoiding him because he knew Leo wouldn't be happy with what he'd done and what he'd asked Ezio. Which was true, Leo wasn't and it affected him to the point that he couldn't work and just stared angrily at his half finished painting but was unable to continue.

Behind him something moved, it sounded like the creak of the old wooden floor. It had been expensive to install but Leo didn't regret it. He turned on his stool still irritated but there was no one there. Maybe he was hearing things. He shrugged to himself and decided that it was useless to continue trying to work, he wouldn't get any more of this painting done when he wasn't in the mood.

He turned back around and came face to face with a knife hovering only millimeters from his face. He fell off his stool with a scream of surprise and fear since the fellow wielding the knife was very scary indeed. He looked like one of those old pictures from Leo's historical religion text books in college had looked like; a grim reaper, dark hood eclipsing his face into shadow. He scrambled to his feet as they took a swipe at them, the business end of the blade coming within centimeters of connecting and once he got his feet under him he bolted, stumbling out of his studio as quickly as he could and could hear the assailant behind him though much quieter.

Suddenly there was a shout, wordless and angry causing him to look back quick enough to catch Ezio slam into the intruder. They went sprawling to the ground the knife flying wildly out of the hooded man's hand and Leo backed himself into the nearest wall. It was like watching feral dogs fight, neither was willing to give up the upper hand and both tried to pin the other to the ground amid snarling and curses. Fists were thrown and a little blood was splattered onto the floor. They seemed intent on killing each other, or maybe just surviving the encounter since it was obvious that neither would let the other live. Leo tried to swallow a lump in his throat when the stranger managed to pin Ezio to the floor, knees trapping his hands, fingers wound around his throat in a stranglehold.

Then Leo watched as the hands slacked, though it was obvious the young man still lived. "Ezio?" the voice was unknown and obviously came from the hooded man.

Ezio was trying to get up but it was clear who was stronger, "Who wants to know," he growled. Then the familiar but not familiar tongue of the Rifters came from the depths of the man's hood and he quickly pushed it back. "A-Altair?" Leo heard his breath hitch when he said the name. "You're alive," he sounded amazed.

"As are you little brother," and suddenly Altair was on top of Ezio hugging him fiercely to him allowing the younger's hands free to return the tight grip. Leo sagged against the wall, sliding down to sit as his heart returned to a more normal tempo. He looked over and saw Salai and Francesco watching wide-eyed and more than a little shocked. He just watched the two brother in their embrace and they seemed to shutter in each other's arms, it was only when the blood stopped pounding in his ears that he heard muffled sobbing of joy and relief.

They didn't release each other for several minutes and when they did Altair kissed Ezio on the forehead several times his face stained with tears. Ezio seemed reluctant to let his brother go after thinking he'd been lost but eventually Altair managed to roll off him. Ezio sat up and they faced each other cross-legged and talked in their tangled tongue as if Leo and the others weren't even there. Their tone was serious at first before it grew more lighthearted and for the first time since Leo had met him Ezio smiled. It looked better on him than a frown that was for sure and slowly Leo picked himself up trying not to make any noise to disturb the two brothers.

He shooed Salai and Francesco out of the room before following. He looked just once at the brothers and allowed himself a small grin and he listened briefly to their unknown speech before he left them alone. It was the least he could do after all they'd been through.


	4. Another Perspective

Whatever Leo thought of Ezio his brother was all of it taken to the extreme. He was silent in his movements and while Ezio was like a cat Altair was a bird of prey, silent, deadly and with cold amber eyes. Where Ezio seemed to be a prowler Altair practically stalked, every movement of his body perfectly coordinated. He scared Leo a fair bit in truth but like Ezio did not seem extrovertly violent other than that first encounter. He was a hard man though but that did not surprise Leo if he had been the one protecting his two younger brothers for the past five years of so. It was also clear he didn't trust any of them, not even Salai and Francesco like Ezio did, but especially not Leo. He was obviously content not to make a scene though, or kill him in his sleep, which Leo could only think was because of the younger brother since Altair seemed perfectly content with being able to kill Leo earlier.

Of course the two were inseparable and when Leo didn't get Ezio into his studio he was likely to find them outside in the side garden. There he'd find them either sleeping in the sun like lazy cats or wrestling, play fighting and the first time he'd seen them do it he'd been scared they were hurting each other. Ezio had had to explain they were just playing, just practicing. _Playing _he'd said, as if it were obvious. Leo's country didn't make war, they didn't even have a standing army, just one in reserves, and of course they could draft any unclaimed pet in the kennels they wanted if they needed to, so even the _idea_ of someone playing at fighting was strange to Leo. But he accepted it anyways, these were not his countrymen after all, these were Rifters and they didn't have the same sensibilities as his people did and he couldn't bring himself to find fault in people doing as their society accepted them to do just because he had different upbringing.

The first time Altair had seen what Leo had Ezio do in his studio he'd been pissed. Obviously he thought Leo was taking advantage of his brother. That conversation brought up the name Des quite a bit but he couldn't follow it otherwise because they weren't talking in a tongue Leo could understand. Eventually Ezio got his brother to calm down, since he looked practically about to _murder_ Leo for having his brother naked in the same room as him. Leo was grateful for that, he doubted death by a Rifter was at all pleasant after all. Once the conversation was over he sat on one of Leo's spare stools watching them from within the hooded shirt he preferred to wear that made it hard to read his already difficult to read face. He spent the rest of the time watching Altair out of the corner of his eye and every time saw his hooded figure looking right at him, hostility in every line of his body.

It surprised him when later in the week when Leo asked Ezio to sit for him that Altair did too. He said if his brother would be made to do it so would he. Leo didn't question him or ask why he'd decided that. He did however had to keep his eyes in his head when the older man undressed. His body was practically riddled with scars where Ezio's was far sparser. He guessed that made sense since Altair said he would protect his younger brothers and the scars on his body were proof of it. But there were other scars too, ones on his back that seemed very deliberate, seemingly having been rubbed into with something darker to stand out on his tan-olive skin, almost making a pattern across his wide shoulders. Ezio had no such scars and he wondered if it had something to do with Rifter culture. He knew better than to ask though.

That was where Malik found him, showing up unannounced after being directed to the studio no doubt by Francesco. The brothers were sitting back to back with Ezio's head on his elder's shoulder, they hadn't moved since they started a while ago except their lips as they talked quietly between themselves. Leo had tuned them out after a while, focusing on his work instead.

"Really Leo? Another one? You're going to be broke soon," Leo jumped when Malik spoke.

"You," he turned, "You almost made me mess up," he told Malik.

"Sorry," no he wasn't, but Leo forgave him anyways. "What possessed you to get another one?" At that they both heard a growl and Leo knew it was Altair without looking.

"You can take a break," he told the brothers who both broke form and slid on their pants before sitting and watching the two freemen. "And I didn't get another, he literally showed up at my door," Leo told Malik.

"A stray? Leo you know that's illegal," Malik reminded him.

"It's Ezio's brother," Leo gave him a look.

Malik blinked and turned to look at them, they were just watching the two silently like birds on a telephone wire, "Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm guessing the elder," and Leo nodded, "Interesting. Do you mind if I-

"No Malik you may not," Leo said, "I told you to not do that. Why didn't you listen?"

Malik was silent for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, you're right. I made a poor judgement call, I was just curious. You know how I get," and he offered an apologetic smile. Leo sighed, he did indeed know how Malik got, it was why the two were friends, they both had insatiable appetites for knowledge.

"Fine, but please don't do something dumb like that again," and Malik nodded, if he'd follow that request was another thing entirely though.

"What are you doing with them?" he asked looking at the two Rifters who stared back.

"Having them sit for me," he showed his work to Malik who looked at it, then did a double take.

"What's that?" he asked pointing at the dark marks on Altair's back curiously. Obviously Malik could see the scars on Altair and Ezio's skin but Leo didn't include them in this drawing, only the small hints of the dark ones on Altair's back.

"Altair, could you turn around please?" Leo asked. Altair narrowed his eyes at them and Ezio mummered something to him. After a few tense seconds he did so, exposing his back to them which seemed to go against his better judgement.

"Oh my," Malik said and slowly walked over to the brothers. "What is that?" he asked looking very much like he wanted to touch but didn't. Neither Rifter answered and Leo's suspicion was correct that it had something to do with their culture, one they weren't willing to share. "Who did this to you?" he asked.

Leo was surprised by Altair's answer, that he would even answer at all, "My father."

"You let your father cut you up like this?" and he took a step back warily when Altair turned around to glare at him, Ezio was doing much the same and Altair spat something at Malik in his own tongue.

"Malik please don't upset them. It's hard enough getting them to trust us in the first place," Leo said.

"Ah-" Malik took another step back, "Of course," he looked back at Leo. "Sorry for interupting you my friend."

"It is fine," Leo sighed.

"Do you mind if I stay and watch?"

"Not at all," and he motioned for the brothers to go back to the way they were. There was some muttering between them before they shucked off their pants once more and like they'd never not been in the pose were in it again and Leo was delighted at how perfectly they recreated it.

Malik pulled a stool up to sit next to Leo. "What is he doing here?" he asked quietly.

"Excuse me?" Leo also kept his voice down.

"Altair. How did he get here?"

"I told you, he showed up at my door."

"Don't lie to me Leo," Malik growled. Leo sighed and told his friend what had happened. "He sounds dangerous then," Malik said.

"No less than Ezio it seems," and told Malik about the fighting they did in the yard.

"Such strange men," Malik notted, "At least you found a use for them," he teased his friend looking at his work. Leo rolled his eyes. "Are you really going to let them go?"

"I doubt I could stop them from leaving or staying if I wanted," Leo whispered. That much was true, Altair had gotten into his home so easily earlier that week he doubted that there rally was anything he could do to make them go or keep them here other than their own prerogative. Even Ezio he realized could have come and gone as he pleased the entire time he'd been here, he hadn't though and Leo was grateful for that. "They know it's safe here though, I don't doubt the only thing that would make them leave would be if they found their brother."

"He could be with that Rodrigo character still," Malik said.

"Or he could be on the other side of the country by now," Leo hissed softly. After that the conversation took a turn and they didn't discuss the brothers, instead they had normal conversation at a normal tone. No doubt the two Rifters were listening to them though they did not say anything, even to each other before finally Leo said he was done. Silently the two dressed and went on their way, Altair pushing his brother out of the room saying something that got him a shove in return, though Ezio was smiling.

"It seems having his brother around does much for his attitude," Malik said as Leo put away his supplies. Leo agreed. "Come over for dinner," he said, "I'm having a get together."

"I don't know-

Malik groaned, "Leo if you could you would stay all day in this studio and work your fingers to cramping with your drawings and paintings. Thank the Father of Understanding that Salai is around to keep an eye on you or you'd become a recluse."

Leo flushed slightly, "I would not."

"Yes you would," Malik said and Leo made a face as he finished putting away his things. "It wouldn't hurt you to be a little social, I promise."

Leo walked back over to him, "Fine," but since Malik had done something annoying to him (including guilting him into this little get together) he got to do the same back. He pressed his dirty thumbs against Malik's glasses making the man give a cry and glare at him. Leo just laughed as Malik tore them off giving him a semi murderous look.

"You're so immature," Malik said. Leo just grinned making Malik roll his eyes. "Be at my house at six," he stood up, glasses back in place.

"I will."

—

The brothers of course took notice when Leo left, Ezio knew it wasn't normal since the artist didn't leave his home at night if he couldn't help it. He prefered to get all his errands done during the morning and then work on his art in the afternoon and into the evening. They made no mention of it as he left though, simply that he was gone.

Altair rolled onto his stomach and looked over at Ezio who was in the hammock. "We need to get out of here," he said in their tongue. He rarely spoke in anything but.

"This again," Ezio rolled his eyes.

"Yes again," Altair growled. "We need to find Des and-

"Altair," Ezio rolled over in the hammock to look at his brother, "We have no idea where he is. And even if we did what could we do? Must we have this conversation every day?"

"He's out there _alone_ Ezio," Altair reminded him with a growl. "In the hands of that-that-that-" he sputtered in anger for a moment before calming himself, "Rodrigo bastard and his little underlings," speaking of their last master made Altair rub the scar on his lips. The first thing the fat man had done was cut them there to mark his claim. The rest of his pets had had marks as well, some cut on their face that was impossible to hide.

"I know," Ezio sighed and rolled back onto his back. "I know better then even you Altair," he said softly.

That got the elder's attention, "What did they do to you when I left?" he asked. He'd tried to get Ezio to tell him but it was like pulling teeth and he wouldn't say.

"You don't want to know," Ezio said softly.

Altair shoved himself to his feet and stalked over to the hammock, flipping his brother out of it. "Tell me," he said firmly amber eyes flashing. So Ezio told him. His brother was right though, he hadn't wanted to know. When Ezio finished Altair turned away trembling with fury. "I will kill them all," he hissed, "Every last fucking one so God help me."

"Only if I don't get to them first," Ezio said pushing himself up from the ground and looking up at his brother from a sitting position.

"You never had your rites, I get first call," Altair said over his shoulder.

"I still had as much training as you," Ezio grumbled.

"Barely little brother," Altair scoffed, "You were hardly a man before we got dragged here."

"I was so. Des was the one who was barely a man-

"Exactly, which is why we need to find him," and Ezio was amazed at the way his brother had twisted that around on him. "He had only a few years of training. We can defend ourselves, he can't," he gave Ezio a sad look before crouching, facing towards him.

"We don't know where he is Altair," Ezio tried to be reasonable with him.

"We have a name," he said firmly, "And I heard those Sheep talking about it earlier today. That one with the glasses _knows_ something."

There was silence for a few seconds before Ezio said, "I thought I'd imagined it. He asked me questions before you came here. He said he was a friend, so I checked, he was. _He_ _is blue_ Altair. I didn't think Sheep could be blue!"

"They shouldn't be," Altair growled. "Even that master of yours is white, a haven if not a friend."

"But why is he?"

Altair was quiet for a few moments, "I don't know. I've never seen someone who isn't from Masyaf be blue. I bet he would help us find Des," he added. "Does he come here often? He and Leo seemed to be friends."

"He used to a lot. But then I guess he and Leo had an argument, I haven't seen him since the day you arrived," Ezio frowned for a moment before standing and crawling into the hammock. "Though I think he may start coming over again. He seemed interested in you."

Altair lowered his head in thought, "It's very strange that a Sheep has such interest in… Rifters. That is what they call us right?" Ezio nodded, "Might as well call us murderers," he growled.

"They call us that too," Ezio pointed out and Altair sent him a look.

"Regardless of what they've decided to call us the fact remains that Sheep are taught to not trust us, to want nothing to do with us. Why is _that one_ so interested?"

"We could ask him," Ezio said.

Altair brooded for a moment. "That might not be a bad idea," he finally said.


	5. Sheep

Altair peered around the corner when Salai brought Malik in. Leo wasn't due home for at least an hour from his morning outings but it seemed Malik often came over when the other man wasn't around. Ezio told him that most times he came over he and Salai played checkers till Leo came home. Altair had grabbed the younger man by the arm when he'd gone to let Malik in and asked if he'd be allowed to play instead. Salai had just shrugged then nodded and Altair let him go.

"Don't want to play today Salai?" Malik asked when the mute didn't sit, Malik was grinning and obviously the pet was giving him some sort of look, "Tired of getting beat?" He chuckled when Salai stomped away with as much dignity as he could manage and Altair watched the man relax into the couch. He waited a few minutes before making himself known and saw the other man's eyes track him as he made his way across the room and sat on the other sofa, opposite his. "Hello there. Altair right?" he asked.

"Yes," Altair said watching him from the shadows of his hood. He was obviously puzzling over Altair's appearance but wasn't having an easy time with it.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, Altair just smirked but didn't speak. It was interesting, despite obviously being of a different cut than his fellow countrymen this Sheep still fidgeted under uncertainty, though he guessed it wasn't unfair that he did since he knew nothing good about Altair's people. Finally Malik sighed and leaned forward on his knees, "Since my usual partner decided to dump me would you like to play?" he motioned to the table which had a digital chess board on it, two small boxes of interchangeable black and red pieces were set into the table. "I could teach you if you want."

"No thank you," Altair said and Malik looked disappointed for about half a second before he continued, "I already know how to play."

"Really?" Altair just bobbed his head and leaned over to put the black markers on the checkerboard. "Where did you learn?"

"My mother taught me," he said which again surprised Malik though he made no mention of it as he put the red pieces on his side slowly. Malik, being red, moved first but within ten minutes Altair had reduced him to one piece on the board while he'd lost only half.

"I didn't expect that you were good at this," Malik said trying to not get trapped by Altair's pieces.

"I bet you didn't expect I could play at all," Malik looked up sharply at his words but he didn't deny it either and Altair cornered Malik capturing his last piece. "We have this game where I live," he gave the red pieces back to Malik and reset his black ones.

"You speak our language well, did you learn that here?" Malik asked.

"I knew it before," he said that startled Malik, "What? Surprised?" he smirked.

"Rifters don't speak civilized tongue," it was obviously something he said without thinking. So maybe he wasn't so unbrainwashed as Altair thought. Though at least he appeared to regret speaking without thinking.

"Yet here I am," Altair raised his arms to include himself and the entire room. "I can speak five languages actually," he added and motioned for Malik to make his first move. "And curse in a few more," Malik snorted at that.

"So you learned to speak when you lived in the Rift?" Malik asked curiously. Altair just shrugged which obviously infuriated Malik with his silence but he made no mention of it. "Can I ask… what are those markings on your back?"

"Why should I answer that when you obviously can't see," Altair said. "You must be blind," and Malik narrowed his eyes at him. They played a few moves before Altair spoke again, "Tell you what. You answer a question for me and I will let you ask one of me," he said.

"Just one?"

"As long as I can ask so can you."

"Then ask," he said doing his best not to seem eager, it was obvious he was though. He seemed very curious about everything, though not in the wide-eyed way Leo was. Malik was to reserved to be wide-eyed, but he soaked in new information like a sponge.

"How long have you known Leo?"

Malik had to think about for a few seconds, "Over ten years, why?

"Is that the question you want to ask me?" Altair asked right back.

Malik made a face at him making Altair grin smugly, "No," he said flatly and took one of Altair's pieces. "What are those markings on your back."

"Wings," Altair said, "They mark me for what I am, a warrior."

"Why doesn't Ezio have-

"My turn," Altair interrupted and Malik scowled at him, he was literally bursting with questions, that much was obvious. "What do you do that you can come here in the middle of the day? I know most of you Sh- people," he corrected himself, not that Malik would understand the word anyways since it wasn't in his language, still, best to err on the side of caution, "work during the day."

"I work at night," was all Malik said. "Why doesn't Ezio have marks like you do? He obviously can fight."

"He never had his rite of passage, he was to young for them before we were brought here," mindlessly he slid a piece across the board. "You only can get your wings and learn to fly once you've had them." Malik didn't try to speak and waited for Altair to ask his question, "What do you do for work at night then?"

"This and that."

"That isn't an answer."

"Only one you're getting."

"Really Malik, do you honestly think I care if you are doing something not exactly respectable?" Altair asked making Malik look at him. "You people don't even know the meaning the word unrespectable," his lips lifted slightly into the start of a snarl but he didn't go through with the motion.

"I'm a people mover," Malik said.

"What's that?"

"My turn now," was all Malik said with a smirk, now it was Altair's turn to scowl. "You're a fighter," it wasn't a question, "So is your brother, what about your younger brother Desmond?"

"All of my family except my two youngest brothers followed the same way as I," was Altair's answer, "Father, mother, two younger brothers, a younger sister, uncle. That is our heritage, warriors to protect our people _from you_." Malik swallowed at that. "What's a people mover?"

"I break into kennels," Malik said, "and let people go, helping them move to other cities so they won't be known." Altair barely had time to process the information before Malik had launched into his next question, "You said two youngest brothers weren't like you. Why not?"

"The littlest was to weak for it, he couldn't handle the training. Des… was made for other things. He wasn't born to be a fighter."

"Then wha-

"How long have you been a mover?"

Malik growled and snapped out his answer and question all in the same breath, "Seven years. What is Des if not a fighter?"

"A prophet," that startled Malik.

"There's no such thing as prophets," he said, "They're just stories made up by people before being shown the way of the Father of Understanding."

"Am I not one of those people then?" Altair asked. Malik frowned, "Your definition of prophet is also vastly different than mine, lets leave it at that." Altair moved his piece, "King me," he added and Malik looked down at the board seriously for the first time, somehow Altair had captured five pieces and made it across his field. Malik did so though the look on his face was one of not knowing Altair had done that. "Why are you so interested in Rifters?" he asked finally getting to the point of this entire discussion, at least for him. Stringing Malik along with letting him ask questions had just led up to this one really.

"What isn't to be interested in? You aren't like us."

"Yet everything you know is a lie."

That stopped Malik in his tracks, "Excuse me?"

"What do you really know about us?" Malik thought but never answered, "Exactly," he smirked. "King me again."

Malik grumbled but did, "So then I like knowing about the unknown, is that so hard to understand?" Altair just shrugged in response, "But it is hard to learn anything when there seems to be nothing to know beyond the normal answers."

"Yes, and of course you people give mine such glowing praise," Altair said sarcastically. "It's your turn," he added both in the game and for his question.

Malik stole one of Altair's pieces, "This might sound weird, but have you ever heard of someone named Kadar?"

Altair blinked, "No," and he moved.

"Oh," Malik frowned.

"Even if I did I wouldn't tell you."

Malik looked at him sharply, "Why not?" he demanded.

Altair smirked and leaned forward, "You think I would tell personal secrets about my people to a little Sheep like you? Hardly," and he leaned back again when Malik swallowed. "Ask me another."

"You don't want to ask me one?"

"I've learned all I needed to," and Malik swallowed again as if he knew he might have fallen into a trap.

"Fine," he huffed. "What is a… whatever it is you just called me," he said.

"A Sheep, _sheep_," he said it first in his tongue, then in Malik's.

"Hmm, I thought it was a lot more derogatory than that," Malik said. "Why?"

Altair smiled, "That I can't answer."

"Why, don't know?" Malik smirked.

"Oh, I know very well why," he leaned his arm on his leg, "You aren't ready to hear it though, still just a little Sheep."

Malik was scowling at him again, either Altair was just good at it or Malik was easy to piss off and annoy. "Why did you almost kill Leo when you first met him?"

"You act surprised it was my first action," Altair said mildly and toyed with one of his pieces before moving it, "Rifters are just animals aren't they."

"I've never believed that," Malik said seriously. "Humans are humans and no one is bound to a stereotype just because everyone believes it."

"Excellent," and Altair's eyes flicked up when he saw Salai behind Malik pointing towards the door. Leo was home. He looked down at the checker board, Malik was down to two pieces; he apparently sucked at this game. He captured them both in three moves before standing as Leo came into the living room.

"You're going?" Malik asked when he got up then noticed Leo, "Ah, Leo, you're home," he smiled slightly then looked back at Altair expectantly. Altair just gave a little wave and left, he could feel Malik staring after him as Leo asked what Altair had been doing. It was then that Altair grinned to himself when Malik replied with 'You know, I don't think I know.'

Altair went into the yard, Ezio was laying in the hammock toying with the wicked knife Altair had brought with with. "Leo's back," he said, it felt good not to have to speak that bleating tongue anymore.

"That's nice. Have a nice chat?"

"Interesting enough," and Altair poked him, "Fight me."

Ezio made a face, "I'm comfortable though." Altair rolled his eyes and dumped his brother out of the hammock, "Jerk," he muttered and tossed the knife into the hammock before going around it and into the grass where he and Altair started to spar. "What did he have to say?" Ezio asked ducking around Altair's attacks.

"It's a shame he wasn't born in Masyaf," Altair said.

"Really?"

"He has the capacity to be of use, but he's still a Sheep."

"He's blue," Ezio reminded him.

"Don't you think I know that," Altair's fist connected with Ezio's shoulder but he just shrugged it off despite it being hard enough to make him actually wince. "He's a Sheep, he thinks like one still even if it's obvious he doesn't agree with the way things are."

"Leo doesn't either," Ezio said having to jump back away from his brother. "I wonder why he is white."

"Seriously?" Altair stopped for a moment, just standing there, arms slightly raised, hands balled into a fighter's fist, "He is to naive."

"He isn't that bad," Ezio scowled.

"You know he is, he might be against the system but he lets it continue. Malik actively fights it."

"I know, he told me," Ezio said nodding.

"Then why are you being so dumb?" Altair rolled his eyes and went at him again making him block. "We don't get to decide what people are, we only get to see who they truly are. Weren't you listening when they went over that part of your training?" he growled.

"I remember," Ezio snarled back.

"Then understand the difference. Leo may be a man who can shelter us from a storm, but he isn't one who will soil his hands in getting Des back, or getting us home."

"You're still so optimistic we'll get home," Ezio said softly, "Its been five years Altair-

"And?" Altair demanded beating his brother fiercely so the younger had to raise both arms to protect his head. "I would see us home and see you finally get your proper rites," he snapped, "That can't happen in this stupid country full of Sheep."

"Lay off will you, this arm is still tender," Ezio bounced away and rubbed his sore right arm.

"Sorry," Altair apologized.

"I want to go home too. But what if we can't? We had to be smuggled into this hell hole, how do you think we can get out?"

Altair sighed, "You obviously didn't listen to half of your instruction. Probably to busy day dreaming about pretty girls," he teased watching his brother test his arm out to ensure Altair hadn't damaged it and made Ezio flush. "What is our purpose?"

Ezio answered without hesitation, "To see that all men are free."

"How do we do this then?" Ezio didn't have an answer, "This is why you pay attention during formal instruction Ezio," Altair huffed.

"Sorry," Ezio said sheepishly. "It was also five years ago."

"Even Des can remember this, and he was _twelve_," Altair wasn't impressed. "We kill to ensure there is peace, so that life beyond this," he waved his hand at what was around them though Ezio knew he meant this entire country, "does not become forgotten. It is important to remember that, or else then our fight has no purpose." Ezio nodded. "Come," he beckoned to begin again. There wasn't much conversation after that since both had warmed up and were taking the sparring more seriously than before.

Finally Altair had Ezio pinned to the grass, his formerly broken arm twisted uncomfortably. "That hurts you know," he growled.

"Good, let it be a reminder to not get in this position when I'm not the one you're fighting," Altair said and released him, rolling off him onto the grass. "Do you know someone named Kadar?"

Ezio was still on his back and once more rubbing his arm. "He and I were in the same class," Ezio said. "I bet he has his wings by now," Ezio sighed deeply.

"Hey," Altair reached over, "You will too," he said seriously squeezing his brother's arm.

"You say that bu-

"I promise. We'll get out of this place and you will Ezio. Trust me will you?"

"You know I trust you Altair," Ezio said.

"Good," Altair pulled away and rolled onto his back. "But first, we need to find Des and put those monsters who hurt you two in the ground," he growled. Ezio didn't sat anything, just shimmied over to Altair pressing their sides together. After a few seconds Altair wrapped his arm around Ezio's shoulders.

—

Like Altair knew would happen his talk with Malik had peaked his interest and curiosity in everything the Rifter said or how he and Ezio acted. It was like a child learning a new set of skills and more often then not when Malik visited Leo and the man wasn't there he'd look for Altair. For himself Altair ignores the Sheep as though he had no interest in him, which of course just made Malik annoyed and tried to get Altair to talk to him more.

"Why do you do this to him?" Ezio asked after the third time Malik had come over only to get no reaction from Altair at all.

"To make sure he's serious," Altair said watching the said man out of the corner of his eye. He was talking with Leo as the man was drawing a detailed recreation of the tattoos on Altair's back. At least he was allowed to wear pants during this session and Ezio was sitting in front of him talking and making faces at him. The two parties were ignoring each other mostly which was for the best since most times they got along like oil and water.

"Well, considering he's always trying to get your attention I'd say he's serious," Ezio said looking over Altair's shoulder.

"With words," Altair shrugged, "You know such trust requires action over words. After all you can make anything sound pretty. But actions always mean more."

"So what, you're waiting for him to corner you?"

"I doubt he's that stupid to try to corner a wolf," Altair rolled his eyes, "But yes, I am waiting for a confrontation. If he can grow a pair enough to demand my attention then he's with it enough to help us."

Ezio was quiet for several moments mulling over what his brother had said, "I understand."

"So glad to know that head of yours isn't just full of fluff," he playfully pushed Ezio's head to the side, he got a shove in return.

"Hey, stop that," Leo called.

"Yeah Ezio, your master said stop," Altair teased Ezio smartly and got another shove before he stopped and Altair resumed his position.

"He bought me but I am no-one's slave," Ezio told him.

"Glad you agree," Altair said, "Never forget that."

"Never," Ezio promised with a nod. "If he does help us what are we going to do to get Des back?" Ezio asked.

"What we were born to do," Altair said softly, "We are blades in the shadows without mercy to those who have wronged us. What do you think we're going to do?"

"I want Rodrigo's son," Ezio claimed, "he was the one who broke my arm."

"You can have him," Altair said, "but the fat man is mine," Ezio nodded.

"Thank you Altair, I'm done now," Leo called.

"Finally," he muttered and pulled on his shirt.

"You're the who agreed to let him draw it," Ezio reminded him.

"And I regret it already. To think a Sheep seeing my wings," he shivered just a bit, the thought was distressing actually. "Maybe I should burn it when he puts it away."

"Don't."

Altair pulled his hood up, "Why not?"

"He just thinks it's pretty," Ezio said, "It isn't like he'd bastardize it."

"He doesn't even know what it is," Altair reminded him sternly standing.

"Exactly," Ezio scrambled to his feet after his brother, "Whatever he'd do with it wouldn't cause any harm."

Altair squinted at his brother, "Don't let emotion cloud your thoughts Ezio," he reminded him, "He's a fucking Sheep, a shelter in a storm and nothing more," he got the satisfaction of seeing his brother stiffen under the reprimanding.

"So I should be a bastard to people who are kind to me?" Ezio managed to snarl out before Altair could walk away with the last word.

"No little brother," Altair sighed, "A kind deed should never go unrewarded, even if it is through trust. But we are not for this world Ezio and it does no good to grow attached to things we can't keep," he reminded him.

Ezio sighed, "I know. Since when did you get so wise Altair?" he grumbled.

"Since I had to take care of two little brothers," he smiled and ruffled Ezio's hair earning him a playful shove.

—

Altair smirked to himself when Malik finally approached him a few days later. Ezio was napping in the hammock after morning training while Altair continued activity. It would have been easy to be lazy during the years of captivity. But Altair had kept up the exercises his teachers had instilled in him and he had kept his body in perfect form. It hadn't been easy since these people didn't encourage the development of strength in themselves or their slaves so most if it had to be done in secret. Of course they'd had a few masters like Leo who didn't care if they exercised, though most protested their fighting training.

"What are you doing?" Malik asked.

"No guesses?" Altair asked only slightly out of breath not looking at him but feeling Malik's gaze burning into his bare back.

"It looks like you're trying to push the earth," Malik said.

Altair chuckled, "I didn't realize you people were really so deprived," he lifted his head to look Malik in the eye as he lowered himself to kiss the ground. "Its a push up you idiot," and lifted himself up again before twisting his body around to sit on the grass.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you doing that?"

"To keep looking like this," he pressed his hand to his belly which was hard with a well defined six pack. "And not like a little Sheep," Malik scowled at him as he said that. "What do you want?" he asked rocking to his feet.

"What does that even mean?" Malik growled, "You keep calling me that but what is it?"

"What do you want Malik?" Altair asked his question again.

Malik stated at him for several seconds seeming to mull over just what it was he did want. It was more than obvious that he didn't quite know what to make of Altair since everything about him was everything Malik wasn't used to. It was like Altair was an exotic fish in a aquarium of common goldfish and no knew quite where he came from and didn't know what to do with him. If they could do anything with him in the first place. "I just... am curious," he finally said.

"About," it wasn't even a question.

Malik took another moment, "Whatever it is you know and I don't," he finally admitted. "I'm curious as to what Rifters see as true and what I do."

"And you just expect me to tell you?" Altair walked over to him, he was taller than Malik by almost a head, not uncommon since most Sheep were shorter than they were.

"Why, do you want something?" Malik demanded.

"We don't have... cash," the word was a mangle on his tongue, "where I come from. We barter and trade for what we need, make deals and promises. Are you willing to make a deal with a wolf for what you want little Sheep?" Altair asked slowly circling him making it so Malik had to turn his head to keep an eye on him.

"Yes," Malik said though Altair saw his shoulders shutter in a shiver at the image Altair had etched into his mind. More of a reminder that here Altair was an apex predator and Malik was easily a lamb for the slaughter.

"Fine then. I'll answer any question you can think of. In return you will do one thing for me," Altair said.

"And what's that?"

"You will get me all the information you can on a man named Rodrigo Borgia," he said. Malik's eyes widened, "You know him?" He raised his brows.

"Of course, he's one of the high priests," Malik stammered. "Ezio said your master was Rodrigo... I didn't think it was _that_ Rodrigo," Malik admitted.

"If he's so well known then it shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"How do you expect me to get this information?"

Altair chuckled dryly, "I'm not stupid Malik. I'm sure you have all _sorts_ of connections from your work," Malik swallowed again.

"What are you going to do with this information if I agree to this?"

"That man has my brother. Ezio and I will take him back and assassinate the Borgias."

"Assassinate?" Oh right, there was no word for that in Malik's tongue that could fully express the entirety of that word.

"We're going to kill the Borgias," Altair said standing before Malik who stared at him when he said that.

"You can't-" then he stopped himself. There was very little that could really stop Altair and Ezio if they decided to do something, the only thing that even posed any threat was one of those sheepdogs the government kept on hand to hunt down Altair's people. "If I do, you can't ever say I helped you," he said instead.

"Malik, what is the word of a Rifter against yours?"

"Nothing," Malik nodded, "and you'll answer anything, truthfully?"

"About my people so long as it does not compromise their safety, yes, and only once I see you living up to your end of the bargain."

Malik looked down at the grass brows drawn together deep in thought. If he did this there would be no turning back and Altair knew he knew that. It was a jump into blue water where there was no bottom. If it got out he was giving information to a Rifter he'd be marked as a traitor, of he wasn't already for activities as a people mover. The penalty for being a traitor in this country was the death sentence. All of this for the sake of curiosity. "Well little Sheep?" Altair asked when he'd stood there for several minutes.

"Stop calling me that," Malik growled, "I'll do it," he held out his hand.

"Good," and he grasped Malik's hand firmly. "Maybe you aren't as much of a Sheep after all."

"Why do you call us that?" Malik asked, his first question.

"Because its what you are. A mindless follower who without a shepherd is directionless, you're blind, deaf, weak, unwillful and stupid."

"I'm none of those things," Malik growled.

Altair just gave him an amused look, "I look forward to you convincing me this," he said leaning close and getting into his face. "Because all I see is a Sheep. We'll talk again when you have information for me," he said jerking back quickly, "Leo's home," he added looking over Malik's shoulder at the artist in the doorway. He waved at the blonde cheekily before turning away from the both of them.

* * *

><p>Oh Malik, what have you gotten yourself into?<p> 


	6. Silence

Dear Reader, if you're reading this then I love you. You're the reason I write and the reason I keep updating. Because of this I've updated all my stories today, including ones I haven't looked at in a while. So if you've been waiting for new chapters, they're here. I hope you all enjoy them.

* * *

><p>A few days was all it seemed to take for Malik to find what Altair wanted since the next time he visited when Leo wasn't home he approached the brothers who were training with a narrow folder-like device under his arm. He didn't interupt their fight though both of them were aware of his presence. "Don't look at him," Altair growled when Ezio's eyes drifted to him. "You can't afford to look away from your opponent," he said sternly.<p>

"I want to know what he has," Ezio whined back having to block a sharp knife hand to the side that would have hurt like a bitch if he'd actually let Altair connect.

"You will, now watch me, not him," Altair ordered and attacked with greater fervor making Ezio have to keep sharp attention to Altair to not be injured or lose. Five minutes later he called an end to their sparing. Malik was still just standing there, his eyes slightly wide from watching them, no doubt impressed. "Sheep," he muttered to himself and Ezio snorted covering a smile. "What are you doing here Malik?" he asked finally switching from his native language to Malik's.

Malik blinked, aware he was finally being addressed before saying, "I have information," he lifted the device slightly. "About Rodrigo."

"Show us," Altair ordered and they stepped towards him. But like the Sheep he was Malik took a step back looking wary.

"He's afraid of us," Ezio frowned.

"Of course he is, he's been conditioned to distrust us," Altair said and took another step forward, Malik just had a confused look on his face. "Conditioned to be weak and subservient, don't forget that Ezio," he cast a glance back at his brother who nodded. Before Malik could step away Altair lashed out and grabbed his wrist. "We aren't going to hurt you you idiot," he told Malik.

"I didn't say you were," Malik swallowed.

"Ah, but you were thinking it," he poked Malik right between the eyes making him flinch as Ezio came to stand next to him. "Show us," he said again letting go of Malik who looked a bit like a cornered deer when Ezio stood on his side.

Malik opened the thin folder which was obviously some sort of machine. Though it was one Altair had never seen before. On one side was a dark screen about five inches long, the other side had a keyboard on it, though it wasn't a familiar one and only had a few buttons on it instead of the more standard one filled with letters and numbers. "I did some digging and well," he pressed a button and the screen burst into life. Ezio jumped back startled and Altair rolled his eyes. "This is him correct?" he asked when a hologram was projected over the small screen. Both men growled when the visage of Rodrigo Borgia floated in space, a smug grin on his fat face. "I'll take that as a yes," Malik swallowed again.

Malik then told them a little history, which just made Altair's heart burn in rage. He was a high priest under the Father of Understanding and as such had many slaves and didn't keep many of them for very long since he either killed them, sent them back to kennels or they killed themselves. He was fiercely political and was trying to become the Grand Holy Father, the leader of the entire country and its hundreds of Templars who were champing at the bit to get sent across the Rift.

"Do you know anything about our brother?" Ezio asked, "What about where he lives?"

"No and yes," Malik said.

"Tell us," Ezio suddenly grabbed the front of Malik's shirt making him yelp and drop the device. Altair caught it before it hit the ground. "Where is he?" he demanded. Malik just opened and closed his mouth several times but no sound came out.

"Ezio," Altair wrapped his hand around Ezio's wrist, "Let him go," he said in their tongue.

"He knows where Rodrigo is," Ezio sent Altair a pleading look. He wanted to rescue Des as much as Altair did.

"We don't have a plan even if we knew where he was. We'd be going in there and probably end up dead. Then no one would be able to help him. Now let the Sheep go before he pisses himself."

Ezio spat a curse but did let Malik go. He was looking at them nervously again. "I apologize," Altair said and handed the device back to Malik. "What else do you have to tell us?" he asked.

Malik closed the mechanical folder and closed his eyes getting his thoughts together, "That's it… that I'm sharing now," he swallowed.

"WHAT!" Ezio yelled.

"Calm down," Altair snarled and shoved Ezio away since Malik had taken yet another step back from the two. "Father didn't raise an animal Ezio, don't act like one," he stood in front of Ezio jabbing him firmly in the chest.

"But Altair," he gave his brother a heartbreaking look. "What about our brother?"

"Leave," he pointed to the hammock, "You're letting your emotions rule your actions. This man is helping us and I won't have you scaring him away with your zealousness," he growled. Ezio tried to speak but Altair just gave him a withering look. Ezio ducked his head and slipped away.

"What was that about?" Malik asked softly and Altair turned around.

"He's just worried about our brother," Altair told him. "Why won't you tell us more?" he demanded.

"You have yet to fulfill your end of the bargain which you said you would once I proved I was doing mine," Malik said in as firm a voice he could after just being scared by Ezio's freak out.

Altair smirked, "Nice use of backbone," was all he said. "Fine," he nodded. Malik opened his mouth, no doubt to ask the first in a very long line of questions, "But not here," he pressed his hand over Malik's mouth. "My brother doesn't know about our agreement. We'll go inside and talk," Malik nodded and Altair let him go. He gave Malik a gentle shove towards the door following after him as he walked inside. He could feel Ezio watching him and looked back to give him a reassuring look. Ezio was frowning but said nothing, nor did he follow but resigned himself to let them leave. He trusted Altair to do what needed to be done obviously.

He pulled Malik into Leo's studio since it was the one place in the house that Salai and Francesco didn't go into when the blonde wasn't home and it was also the room Altair had investigated the most since it was in this room that he and Ezio were often at their most vulnerable. Malik sat on the small stage while Altair closed the door, locking it as well, before joining Malik sitting across from him. "Whatever I say to you here does not leave this room, do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes," he said softly though seemed uncomfortable from their proximity.

"If I find out any of it has been repeated and has gotten into hands it wasn't meant to fall you will be the first one I kill."

"I understand," Malik growled.

"Good," Altair folded his arms and waited.

Malik took a moment to collect his thoughts, "You told me those marks on your back are wings," Altair nodded. "Ezio doesn't have any because he wasn't old enough," Altair nodded again. "Why would you allow someone to scar you like that? You said your father did it to you."

"It is a rite of passage. My class must train for years before they're allowed to use their own weapons or fight without the say of someone who is winged."

"But your father-

"All families have different styles. I have mine because it is the same as my father's, Ezio will have the same as mine because he is my little brother and since our father is most likely dead he will have the same as me."

"So he didn't actually do that?"

"No."

"Would you have let him if he did?"

"Yes."

"Is that why Ezio never did an practice fighting until you showed up?"

"Yes."

"It's a very rigid class system then," Malik said thoughtfully.

"No more than your own," Malik had no comeback for that. It was very hard to become a freeman if you were a pet and people like Leo and Malik were far and few between.

"What happened to your family?"

"That's a personal question."

"But you said-

"I said you could ask anything about _my people_," Altair said.

"Well your family are your-" he stopped himself when Altair growled at him narrowing his eyes. He swallowed and changed topics. "How old would you have to be to get your… wings," he said.

"Twenty, sometimes younger. I got mine at eighteen."

"How do you get them?"

"Do you know what a tattoo is?"

"Yes, they're old permanent forms of body art. That's banned in this country," Malik stated sounding like a text book.

"It is a tattoo," Altair said, "done in a very old style."

"Didn't that hurt?"

"At first," Altair shrugged.

"How long did it take?"

"Three sittings, four hours each," he said remembering the feeling of the needle on his back and shoulders and it gave him goosebumps.

"Twelve hours then," Malik stared at him, Altair nodded. "You all go through that? What about others not in your class?"

"Only prophets and warriors are tattooed."

"So Desmond has one?" Altair nodded. "Where?" Altair answered by cupping his wrist with his hand and running it up to his elbow. "But he was twelve when you came here," Malik frowned.

"He got it when he was eight," Malik stared at him. The next two hours were spent with Malik exhausting the topic about the markings on the various individuals of Altair's people as well as what the other classes were. Altair actually had to think about some of his answers since some of his questions were delicate or he didn't know how to answer since he'd never had to think of them in such a way, they'd just been the way he'd lived. Altair hadn't understood exactly what he'd gotten himself into till then either. Malik might be helping him but he was milking Altair for all he was worth.

"Enough," Altair finally said and leaned back to get away from Malik who had somehow gotten very close to him in a way he wasn't comfortable with. "I've given you far more information then you gave me, now tell me more about Rodrigo," he shifted away and Malik frowned to himself but pulled out the mechanical folder.

"This is where he lives," he said pushing some buttons on the interface and a hologram appeared in the air of the building.

"Yes, it looks familiar," Altair nodded.

"It's in a highly restricted and high security part of the capital. I don't even know how you managed to get out in the first place." Altair snorted at that, "What's so funny?"

"Just thinking you really obviously haven't been asking me the right questions," he said.

Malik opened his mouth then closed it, pouted for about five seconds then said, "I haven't been able to find a map to it yet though since it's buried under a mound of encryptions and firewalls. But I know a guy and he's working on it for me."

"Can he be trusted?"

"He's a mover like me, I trust him explicitly," Malik said.

"That is good enough," Altair nodded. "What else can you tell me?"

"Now? Not much more than that. Shaun, my mover friend, once he's broken into the system that lets him get the satellite maps of that part of the city then he said he'll try and see what else he can dig up-

Altair squinted at him, "And what are you offering him for all this?"

"What makes you think it matters to you?" Malik said defensively but Altair kept staring at him through narrowed eyes and after a few seconds he squirmed uncomfortably under his harsh amber stare.

"Malik," he growled.

"It isn't anything bad," he said.

At that Altair reached up and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him towards him, "What are you giving him?" he demanded.

"I told him he could listen in," he yelped trying to wriggle from Altair's grip but effectively failing.

Altair blinked, "What?"

Malik muttered to himself before reaching up and pulling something off from just behind his ear. It was flesh colored and looked like a small adhesive bandage with a square bump in the center. "It's a microphone," he said helplessly before trying to pull away again when Altair glared at him.

"I told you nothing I said left this room Malik," Altair snarled at him shaking him roughly. "And if it did I'd fucking kill you," his grip became white knuckled at this point and he could _hear_ Malik swallow.

"I figured you'd be more interested in having the right information to get your brother," Malik blurted realizing that now he had to talk Altair out of making good to his threat. "Without Shaun I can't do anything to help you or your brother. Please believe me he won't tell anyone."

"How do you know that?" he snarled.

"He's one of Leo's old pets, he's a mute; he can't tell anyone even if he wanted to!" he practically tripped over his words in his haste to get them out of his mouth.

Altair relaxed by a fraction of an inch. "And?"

"And what? And-and-and," he was quickly trying to think of whatever Altair wanted him to say, "He's a mover Altair. He stays under the radar like me, he won't tell anyone. _Please_, _trust me on this_," he said.

Altair stared into his wide and more than a little afraid eyes. Altair knew he knew that if he wanted to it wouldn't be hard for Altair to kill him and when he did he would have little remorse for it. He tried to find a hint of filth in Malik, some malice that would even _permit_ him to rationalize killing him and agonized when he couldn't. As always he shown a cerulean blue color in his sight and the Creed of his class was strict; do not take the life of an innocent. If he allowed Malik and this Shaun character to live though he'd be breaking another tenant though; do not compromise your people. He had given Malik sensitive information in confidence that he wouldn't breath a word of it to anyone and already he'd spit in Altair's face in that one request. It infuriated Altair that Malik was blue and not red or even yellow at that moment since he should kill him. It would be easy too, his hand was close enough as it was it would be easy for his fingers to wrap around his throat. But no, he was blue, and every ounce of training and morals told Altair to stay his hand, to offer a bit of trust.

Altair pulled him close so their noses were almost touching, "You will bring this Shaun person to me so I can see him," he hissed.

"I… can't," Malik swallowed. "He lives on the other side of the country."

"Than a picture, a hologram, I don't care. I will judge for myself if he is trustworthy and if he is not-" he left his threat hanging though truthfully he didn't know if he could go through with it. Malik was an blue Sheep, by definition he was innocent and the Creed forbade harming the innocent under harsh penalties.

"O-okay, I'll get you one," Malik said, "Right now if you want," he stumbled over his words again.

"Do it," and he let go of Malik. He pulled something out of his pocket. He'd seen Leo with one as well as every other master he'd ever had. They called them Operators and were electronical leashes for the Sheep by their stupid shepherds. It was just a more useful thing than the collar around Altair's neck he'd as of yet not removed but they both did the same thing and kept one bound to servitude.

Malik muttered to himself casting furtive glances at Altair every few seconds to make sure he wouldn't suddenly change his mind and just kill him anyways but Altair did not move and simply stared at him. "Shaun?" Malik asked.

"I heard," a mechanical voice burst out of the Operator, one of those computer voices that could never be a real human. Altair growled audibly, "Feisty one isn't he?"

"Shut up," Malik hissed, "Just turn on your camera."

"Yep," and Malik pressed a few buttons and held the Operator up like a mirror to Altair. Altair narrowed his eyes at what he saw. A pale man with a blaze of orange hair that came up to a point. Like Malik he wore glasses but unlike Malik's his didn't reflect light; they weren't real, just frames and Altair took an instant dislike to them.

"Open your mouth," Altair ordered.

Shaun leaned forward and tapped something into what was obviously a keyboard, "Why?" the mechanical voice said.

"I want to see your tongue Sheep," he snarled. Shaun then opened his mouth and true to facts the red head's tongue had been severed so there was only a puckered pink mass in the back of his mouth to wiggle around. "Fine," and Shaun closed his mouth again.

"Trust me now?" he leaned forward again and stayed that way though his eyes remained trained on Altair's face. He jumped back though when Altair entered his second sight, eyes flashing so gold they were practically yellow. Altair frowned at what he saw. He wasn't blue like Malik was, nor was he red, or even gray for that matter. He was like Leo, white. He was safe. What was with these Sheep and their strange colors? The more he saw of them the more it unnerved him actually since Sheep were gray, they were born gray and unless they got recruited as a sheepdog they stayed gray.

"For now," Altair growled letting his eyes become amber again.

Slowly Shaun leaned forward for his fingers to find the keyboard, "Good. What was that crazy eye voodoo about just then eh?"

"None of your damn business."

"I'll just ask Malik to ask you later then," and he had a cocky smirk on his lips then. Altair wanted to wring his neck.

"What makes you think there will _be_ a later?" he growled.

"I just cracked the last encryption on the Borgia documents. I'm looking at a blueprint of Rodrigo's villa right now," the mechanical voice chimed in dryly after a few seconds of rapid typing.

"Show me."

"That info's ganna cost you."

"Fuck you," Altair spat in his own tongue since he knew it sounded fouler that way.

"Just let me listen and I'll get you anything you want," he said. "C'mon, you said you trust me."

"Only because I cannot kill you," Altair growled and everyone knew he was being totally serious. "Fine," he nodded. "You can listen."

"Sweet," Shaun grinned.

* * *

><p>HI SHAUN! WTF ARE YOU DOING HERE!<p> 


	7. Secrets

Woah long chapter is long!

* * *

><p>Malik returned two days later with more information. He had dark circles under his eyes as he watched both Altair and Ezio for a time before the elder felt the need to acknowledge him since they were always practicing. Especially now Altair wanted to make sure his brother was in shape and strong enough for the task ahead of freeing their brother from Rodrigo's clutches. Ezio was badly out of practice still because of the more than month of inactivity both under the Borgia and then Leo before Altair had returned. When they finally approached Malik he gave them a blueprint of the Borgia manor on real printed paper showing both a floor plan and a three dimensional picture of the house.<p>

Other then that though Malik had no other information, at least not that he'd share until he and Altair talked. Ezio had been excited anyways and hadn't cared if there wasn't any more information yet. Altair told him to memorize the floor plan as he prodded Malik inside and back into Leos studio. The artist was at a local museum helping with a show that would be opening soon.

"You look tired," Altair jotted passively, it almost looked like Malik was wearing dark makeup except that it was obvious he wasn't.

"I worked last night," Malik muttered slouching where he sat and seemed unintimidated by Altair's presence unlike usual. He was probably to tired to be afraid of something he knew wouldn't probably hurt him.

"I take it Shaun is listening?"

"Yes," he bobbed his head in affirmation.

"Ask away then," Altair settled his hands into his lap casually his fingers picking at the heavy material of his pants.

"What was that eye thing you did the other day?" Malik asked.

Altair's lips became a thin line of dislike of having to share this bit of information. But he'd traded this information for information about his brother and it was a fair trade. He'd be no better than a thief if he didn't say. Still, he didn't have to elaborate on it either. He was determined to not give away information Malik didn't ask for and answered with as strait forward and short answers as possible. If Malik wanted more than that he'd have to ask the right questions to get Altair to tell him.

"It allows me to determine who is trustworthy and who isn't," that was the most basic answer really since it was so much more than that.

"Can everyone do it?" Malik sat up a little straiter.

"No."

"Just you?"

"No."

"So can Ezio?"

"Yes."

Malik made an annoyed face at him, "Who else can do that?"

"My family could. It is hereditary."

"Can other families?"

"Yes."

"You're being annoying Altair," Malik growled.

"You just aren't asking the right questions," Altair grinned impishly at him, almost mockingly.

Malik was silent for for a few moments thinking about what exactly he wanted for ask. "Who other than you or your family is capable of doing that?"

"Warriors, prophets, sometimes some of the other classes. I told you, its hereditary, if one parent has it so will the children."

"Can it be learned?"

"I've never met anyone who could. So no a Sheep like you couldn't do it," and Malik gave him a glare though it was not nearly as sharp as he was capable of.

"How do you know? Who's trust worthy I mean."

"It shows us the world in shades of gray, the way the world is for nothing is black or white. But in the gray there are people who are more important to our person, they show in color."

"Really?" he perked up a bit, Altair nodded slowly. "What colors?" Altair told him, "I assume they mean something," again Altair nodded, "What does each color mean?"

"Blue are friends, red are enemies, and white is safety."

"You said there was yellow as well," he prompted.

"Yellow is a target."

"Target for what?"

"A warrior's blade, preferably through the throat, heart, or head," he watched Malik pale a bit and swallow.

"Am I a color?" Malik asked as if he almost didn't want to know, Altair nodded, "Which one?"

"Blue. For some reason I still can't figure out since I've never met a blue Sheep, its practically an oxymoron," and Malik went from relief to scowling in a few seconds.

"What about Shaun or Leo? They must be special for you to trust them so much."

"White, interesting but unimportant. White Sheep aren't unknown, they're just odd," he squinted at Malik, "unlike you. Who the hell every heard of a blue Sheep? My brothers back home will never believe me," he claimed and Malik growled. "Next question," he almost regretted saying that because Malik was now very interesting in picking through every bit of intonation about Altair's class he could, starting with the Vision and working out from there.

Altair halted the questions an hour later saying that he'd gives Malik a proper exchange for what he'd given him and Ezio. He left him on Leo's stage and went back outside reveling in the sun striking his face.

Ezio was curled up in the hammock eyes pouring over the papers Malik had given him, capturing every detail. He looker up when he heard Altair come near. "Where did you go?"

"It doesn't matter. Tell me what you learned," he ordered and Ezio moved over to let Altair into the hammock. When Leo found they prefered to sleep in it than the ground or a bed he'd bought a bigger one that could fit several people in it. Altair had even thanked him, which had just embarrassed the artist.

"There are few easy entrances," Ezio said and flipped through the pages to find one he wanted. "The main door here," he pointed, "there is also a side and back door here, and here," he pointed to each one in turn.

"What about difficult entrances?" Altair asked taking one of the papers, it was labeled 'basement'.

"Two balconies on the second floor, and one on the third. There is also a sunroom-" he rapidly flicked through papers making them crackle in his hands, "here," he pointed, "walls made of glass here bordering the garden."

"What's near that room?"

"Doesn't look like much, a library, and it opens into a large greenhouse," he directed his finger across the paper whichever Altair followed eyes memorizing the complicated network of lines as he went.

"Bedrooms?"

"Second story," Ezio flipped to a new page, "Rodrigo probably sleeps here," Altair nodded at Ezio's directing finger, "there are several others as well."

"What's on the third floor?"

"Loft space mainly, and a balcony. It looks like it might be a ballroom or something. Or the pets might sleep there since there aren't any other quarters for them.

"Basement?"

"Its small really, probably more like a cellar, I couldn't tell you without a photo," Altair nodded in agreement though he did note with interest that the basement was much smaller than he'd expect for such a large home and there were small square rooms off the main room that didn't seem to connect at all. They looked small too, like closets.

He passed over it though and turned back to Ezio who was explaining something else, distances and heights of things which Altair soaked in and with the help if the picture Shaun had provided was able to create an image in his head of what the place looked like. He didn't remember much of the place during his captivity there since much of it had been spent in defiance of Rodrigo Borgia and left him more than once bound and blind folded before being shoved into a corner after he'd been 'disciplined'.

"We'll go in through the sun room," Altair said.

"Through the garden?"

"Yes," he pointed to the papers as he spoke, "Everything else is easily defended, but the sunroom is probably an after thought. It isn't a door or a balcony or a window and is probably treated more like a regular wall than a room made of glass," Ezio was nodding now. "I'll see if Malik can get us a map of the ground's around the house."

"Pictures would be helpful," Ezio noted.

"Yes. He said he was also working on a map of the part of the city where the Borgia's house is so we can plan a route."

"We need weapons Altair. You know Rodrigo will have sheepdogs around, and those cowards would rather use guns."

"I doubt it," Altair frowned, "I remember seeing one, do you? He was bald with a large scar on his scalp, he might have been a dog," he frowned, "but there were others with them and he ordered his men to not bring firearms into the house. I bet a pet would love to get their hands on a gun. Its a fast way to kill yourself and it doesn't take skill to shoot a gun," Ezio nodded again. "They'll probably have knives though-

"Good thing those are our specialty," Ezio smirked wickedly.

"Yes, they are," Altair offered one back along with his agreement. "First we need to get more though. All we have is the one I brought with me."

"I bet I could talk Leo into taking me out into the city and finding one," Ezio said thoughtfully.

"Weapons are illegal here Ezio, you need a permit to even own kitchen knives. We aren't in Masyaf and you can't just go get a knife whenever you want."

"I'll figure something out," he insisted. "You let me worry about the weapons and you get Malik to give us information."

"Sounds fair," Altair bobbed his head in agreement.

—

True to his words Ezio talked Leo into helping them and by the end of the week he'd acquired a pair of knives. Altair didn't know how he'd done it but he was proud of Ezio regardless since to do something like that was a skill needed of their class, to move and to get things without being seen or obvious about it. Altair had done his own part and gotten Shaun and Malik to hand over more information about the Borgias. It was impressive really, any information Altair needed Shaun could get in a few days or hours even and for simply the price of sitting with Malik for an hour or so answering his questions. The black haired man was stubborn and persistent about it too picking apart any vague answer Altair gave till it would have almost been easier just to answer it strait the first time. That would have been easy though, and Altair's agenda didn't include making life easy.

They fought with blades now that Ezio had acquired them. Altair was shocked to find himself badly out of practice with them too. It had been easy to stay in fighting form but after half a decade of not being able to hold his preferred weapon let alone practice with it they were both a bit clumsy. The knives were heavy too, not like the light weight blades crafted by Masyaf smiths that could puncture even modern body armor, at least along the joints. Of course there were plenty of other unprotected points on a sheepdog that let you kill them just as quickly. The heavy blades made their motions slow at first but Altair adjusted to the weight first and by the third day of their practice he was already moving at his old speed leaving Ezio to cope with the clumsy blade.

When they weren't fighting or resting they were planning. The information given to them by Malik strewn out in front of them creating a patchwork of the Borgia mansion and the surrounding grounds and city. Ezio did not have the lessons Altair did under his belt concerning this sort of strategy, it was only taught to warriors before they got their wings and Ezio had been three years out for that even being a reality. But there was one thing Ezio had that others didn't, he was a faster adaptor, even as far warriors went, he'd had to be to live in this messed up country as nothing better than a slave. This allowed him to quickly grasp Altair's words as he plotted a course and even offered his own suggestions which Altair hadn't thought of till then.

"When do we strike?" Ezio asked him.

"It is to far to go on foot," Altair said.

"We've walked further back home," Ezio said pointedly.

"This _isn't_ home Ezio," Altair reminded him with a bit of a growl. "That sort of movement would be noticed. You forget, there are cameras everywhere in this place," Ezio frowned but nodded.

"So then how will we get there?"

"A car."

"I can't drive, neither can you."

"I am aware," Altair snapped. It was unfortunate cars were useless where they lived, it was to hot and they broke to easily, since they really were convenient things. "I don't want to involve Leo," Ezio nodded quickly, obviously he didn't either, for Altair though it was along the lines of 'don't shit where you sleep', which he doubted Ezio was thinking. Leo offered them shelter, a safe place from the shit storm around them and to ask him to participate in what could very much be a suicide mission was no better than throwing him to the wolves. It would put him in danger and by proxy themselves. That couldn't happen if he and Ezio were going to bring Desmond back here.

Suddenly Ezio twisted around from where they sat, "Malik," he noted. "He has more? God what more could there be?" he asked no one as the black haired man came over to them in the grass.

"What is it?" Altair asked him switching to something the Sheep could understand.

"I have information about your brother."

That was different. Usually he had information about the Borgia, he'd never had anything strictly about their brother. "Which is?" Ezio prompted perking up and seeming interested.

"I have contacts with people who trade in people," they nodded, it was obvious given his profession. "He in turn knows some priests, one got invited to the Borgia's home a few days ago. High Priest Rodrigo showed off an expensive and rare acquisition to him. I wasn't sure at first till he was described as having strange dark markings on his forearm-" he cut himself off when Ezio growled.

"He treats our brother like a piece of furniture," Ezio snarled.

"Calm Ezio, calm," Altair pressed his hand to his brother's shoulder blade, speaking only to him. "We can't do this if you're going to let yourself be ruined by blood lust," and Ezio took a deep breath to calm himself. Malik just stood where he was looking down at them. "What else?" he looked at Malik.

"The High Priest apparently made him do something strange. The details are vague, but from what he told me it was almost like he was put into a trance and-

"Enough," Altair growled out, he knew exactly what Rodrigo had made Des do and now Ezio wasn't the only one enraged. How _dare_ that fat bastard make Des use his birthright in such a manner! It took him several moments to calm himself enough to think rationally and not act upon his first instinct was to go _now_ and rip Rodrigo apart. "Thank you for the information," he gave Malik a look.

"We need to act soon Altair," Ezio told him now ignoring Malik who left them to themselves now seeing he wasn't in the conversation even enough to understand them.

"I know, I know," he said softly. "I need to go deal with something, clean this all up," he nodded at the papers on the grass, "and practice to get your speed up. I feel we will need it," Ezio nodded as Altair unfolded his legs standing as he did so.

He entered the house and was stopped by Francesco. "What?"

"Why do Mr. Malik and you always go into Mr. Leo's studio?" he asked.

Altair just gave a soft, dry snort, "No reason you need to know kid," he said moving past him, "Where is Leo anyways?"

"He went grocery shopping," he said cheerfully.

"When will he be back?" he asked walking around the boy, he just shrugged, "Fine," he said leaving Francesco standing there.

Malik was wandering around Leo's studio when Altair entered, looking at one of the paintings he was working on. It was obvious who it was too, he'd asked Ezio and Francesco to be in it, the boy just sitting in Ezio's lap, dressed in probably the ugliest clothing Altair had ever seen. Though Altair still liked the painting because it unlike real life showed Ezio without that ugly metal collar around his throat. Thinking of it made Altair aware of his own and he fought the urge to tug at it.

"It would have been better if you hadn't told Ezio that," Altair said after locking the door as he always did.

"Sorry," Malik cast him a fleeting glance as he turned away from one of Leo's other incomplete paintings. "I figured it wasn't anything important. The story was to fanciful to be real." Altair didn't say anything, he just plopped himself down on the stage his eyes following Malik around the room till he finally sat across from Altair. "What was it?"

"What was what?"

"What did Rodrigo make your brother do that pissed you off so much?"

"It's… complicated," he said truthfully. "And I don't even fully understand it myself."

"Try?"

Altair sighed and leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand, propping himself up on his knee. This was worse than having to explain the Eagle Vision and far more difficult since he really knew very little about prophets other than what was common knowledge. He was quiet for several minutes as he got his thoughts together. "What do you think of when I say prophet?" he asked.

"A made up story," Malik said bluntly.

"Well obviously you think that," Altair snapped, "but why is is made up?"

"They claim to be able to see the future, or the past, create miracles, stuff like that. They aren't real though. Before the Father of Understanding people used to follow the words of prophets since they were ignorant and couldn't th-" he stopped and swallowed. Altair could only imagine what his face looked like right now.

He took a second to calm himself. Malik was not his enemy, he did not say this in spite but ignorance he couldn't be faulted for. "Some prophets are false," Altair said around his teeth, "Ours are not. It is possible for them to glimpse the future or to recall the past. But never…" he refrained from snarling it out, "but never like how I'm sure Rodrigo made him do so. There needs to be a medium, a way to channel the sight."

"Which is?" Malik prompted.

"Our people call it the Waters of the Animus," Altair said, "I couldn't tell you what it is though, I've never seen it. Only those who guard the prophets ever get to see it, and that is if they're lucky."

"What does it do?"

"I told you, I don't know," Altair snapped. "I am a warrior it isn't my place to meddle in the affairs of prophets."

"Why is it bad he might have made Desmond… _see_, without these Waters?"

"From what I know _the Animus_," he sent Malik a look, "channels the ability properly, doing so without it can cause pain, mental instability, death even. Regardless what Des sees _isn't_ for one of your fucking High Priests and his dogs to see," it came out as an enraged growl. He was angry too, furious even. Like before he wanted to go now to the Borgia mansion and rip apart that fat man and everyone who got in his way.

"They could be making it up," Malik only said once Altair had mastered himself.

"They are not."

"You said you've never seen a prophet do what you claim though-

"I've seen my brother do it. It was how we knew he was different."

"How?"

"He told us somewhere was going to be attacked, because of that they were able to protect themselves and destroyed all the Templars who came to kill everyone."

"It could have been a guess."

"It wasn't. He was _eight_, he'd never even been to the place he claimed was in danger. It wasn't a guess. After that another prophet came and claimed him for them instead of the class he was born into."

"I still think it's fanciful."

"You can, it does not mean I am wrong."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Malik said.

"You never will."

They were both silent after Altair's statement. Malik was thinking and Altair was waiting for him to finally speak. "If prophets can see things what about miracles?" he asked.

"What do you consider to be a miracle?"

"Like in those stories of that pagan religion, turning water to wine, parting the ocean, stuff like that."

Altair snorted, "Now those are just stories."

"No truth, at all?"

"No."

"Well that's boring," Malik said leaning back a thoughtful look on his face once more.

"Excuse me if you think seeing into the future is boring," Altair said in such a way that must have been funny because Malik laughed at him. Altair just rolled his eyes at him with a huff. He didn't get why it was funny but Malik seemed to and wouldn't shut up. "Oi, if you're going to keep on then we're done," Altair snapped.

"Sorry," Malik yelped covering his mouth quickly to stop himself from continuing to laugh. After a few seconds he really did stop and Altair drummed his fingers on his thigh boredly replacing his head on his palm till Malik got a proper grip. Stupid Sheep. "Earlier you said Templars, what's a Templar?"

"Sheepdogs they send after us."

"What?"

Altair muttered to himself, "They are government dogs who under the orders of your stupid priests come out to the Rift to try and kill us."

"You gave them two names."

"Yeah, so?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Not really," Altair shrugged, "the distinction is situational," Malik nodded.

"What do they do?"

"In this country they make sure little Sheep like you don't step out of line-

"Like police?"

Altair laughed, "No, nothing like them. Police don't kill, they don't even carry weapons, because why would a proper Sheep resist? These guys carry weapons and deal with Sheep who go off the predetermined path. If someone ever found out you were a mover the police wouldn't show up to take you away a Templar would come and… _deal with you,"_ Malik swallowed.

"You said in this country?"

"They also come out to the Rift and attack us. We retaliate by killing them."

"No questions asked?"

"None."

"So if you see someone who isn't a Rifter you just kill them?" he seemed anxious about the answer.

"Not everyone. You know who they are because they are marked with a brand, right here," he pointed to his chest, over his heart, "of a cross. It's repeated on their clothing. You can always tell who's a Templar and who isn't."

"What about if you find someone who isn't?"

"We find out what they want and take appropriate actions."

"What about children?"

Altair gave him a curious look, "What about them?"

"What if you found a child out on the Rift?"

"We'd take them in," he was surprised when Malik's face suddenly smoothed over as if he was relieved. "If they were young enough," he added. "How young were you thinking?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, Altair frowned at that, "But they wouldn't have a family, what class do they get put into?"

"Warrior," Malik flinched, this was getting more interesting. "Ours is the smallest class besides the prophets, we always could use more fighters."

"So they get trained, into people like you and Ezio?"

"Is that a problem?" Altair leaned forward. "If you want to ask me something specific Malik just fucking ask it."

"No," he obviously lied.

Altair scowled, "At the very least you could be truthful with me since I have been with you."

Malik stared at him for several moments before he took out his Operator which had been listening in on their conversation till now for Shaun's benefit. He clicked a few things on its glass-like service, turning it off it seemed, before he spoke again; "I sent my brother out to the Rift when he was little to escape being a slave."

"Really?" that was interesting and probably also explained why he was blue. "What was his name?"

"Does it matter?" he snapped.

"I could tell you if he is alive."

"I asked before and you said you wouldn't."

"You did not."

"Yes I did."

"This is the first time I heard you had a brother," Altair snapped, "If you had I would have told you since I would want to know about my own brother."

Malik adverted his eyes, he obviously hadn't thought of that, "His name is Kadar. He would have been about seven at the time."

"How long ago was it?" Altair asked his brain firing and remembering something Ezio had said to him.

"Fifteen years," he said softly.

"He's alive," Malik looked up quickly, "Or he was the last time I heard. He was in the same class as Ezio."

A weight seemed to slip off Malik's shoulders at Altair's words, "You're sure?"

"My brother doesn't lie," Altair said gruffly, "If he told me he knew someone named Kadar than he did. Why would you send your own brother out into the Rift and not yourself?"

Malik looked down, "He wasn't a pet, I was. I got him away before my parents could do to him what they did to me," he couldn't meet Altair's eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter."

"You don't mean that," Malik looked up at him briefly, "If it had been my brothers I wouldn't have gotten over it. How did you do it?"

"I knew some people. They promised they'd take him. I never knew if they really did."

"Why the Rift of all places? There are other countries."

"They hate us."

"They _fear you_. There is a difference. And why wouldn't you think _Rifters_ hated you?"

"I saw them once, they were on the TV and had captured some of ours. I think they might have been Templars now. They killed those men on screen for everyone to see, they weren't afraid of anything even us. But that wasn't what I remember, they didn't seem… angry, or hateful, more like they were doing it with purpose, or that they were forced to make an example of them. I don't know, I figured he'd be safe if there were people like them that could keep him safe. Later I met Shaun, he showed me the entire clip. After they killed the Templars they buried them, and not just them but others too, probably members of their clan you told me about," Altair nodded slowly. "I didn't see that till later though, when I did I knew I'd made a good choice. I just… didn't know if he was alive," he pressed the heel of his hand to his eye. "I'm glad he is," he managed to say around a shaking voice.

"Then you made a good choice I think," Altair said reaching out to grab his shoulder. "I would have some something similar to keep my brothers safe if I could."

"How safe is he really though if he's there and you tell me there are _Templars_ who go out and kill people like you, or even just anyone?"

"He doesn't have a family, he doesn't have a place in our society," Malik's eyes narrowed slightly, "He has to make one for his children. Since he doesn't he'd be stuck in…" he didn't want to reveal it, but Shaun wasn't listening, "In Masyaf, protecting our city. He'd be safer there since you don't even know the place exists."

Malik sighed heavily, "I hope he doesn't hate me."

"I doubt it," Altair insisted, he wasn't the best at comforting people, he'd always let his brother do that, but he was gone so that just left Altair. "I'm sure he's figured out you were trying to help him. I mean, we don't exactly paint a nice image of this country to our children. The same you do about ours."

"I hope so as well," Malik nodded and finally tore his eyes away from his lap into Altair's amber ones. "He'd be about as old as Ezio now. Do you give people like him wings too?"

"Yes. He'd get ones for himself."

"So it wouldn't just be a blanket look?"

"All families have their own design. It makes them unique since we all have the same training, our wings and weapon specialty separate us."

"Oh. So they don't look like yours? Would they be big?"

Altair chuckled, "My family has some of the most impressive. Most families have much smaller ones."

"That's cocky of you," Malik said. Altair laughed, dropping his head down and shoulders shaking. "Well it is," Malik informed him.

"If you say so," Altair chuckled. "It isn't like we go around showing them off."

"So why would you get something no one could see?"

"It's supposed to be impressive to people we do show them to," Altair rolled his eyes.

"Well I'm impressed."

"That is obvious," he suddenly became aware of how close they'd become, heads almost touching. He didn't make to move away though.

"I wish I could see Kadar, I'm sure his wings would be nicer than yours."

"I highly doubt that."

"Bigger than maybe."

"Unlikely. Not like he has a pedigree."

"He's my brother, that makes them better than yours by default."

"See if you'd used that argument from the beginning I'd have found it harder to argue with you," Altair smirked at him. Malik grinned, "Ezio's will be nicer than mine, mine are to scared up and ugly," he added.

"I don't think they are," Malik informed him, Altair didn't say anything in response and for a moment thought to say they were done here. Then Malik did something he wasn't expecting by pressing his lips against his. It shocked him for a second and his mind stopped for a second as he tried to figure out just what was happening. A few seconds after trying to work it out he stopped because then he was kissing Malik back, pushing him back so he had to hold himself up on his arms. It only lasted a few moments before his brain started up again and made him pull away. He stared at Malik with wide eyes, wondering if he'd _really just done that._

"Altair?" he spoke softly and reached up as if to touch his face. But that snapped him out of it and hardly a heart beat after his name fell from Malik's lips he fled. The door of Leo's studio slamming behind him.

* * *

><p>Did that just happen? Really?<p>

Why yes, yes it did :3  
>What's the sound I hear?<p>

I think it's the sound of fangirls screaming.


	8. Deal

I like talking to my readers. Problem is is that ff. net has a terrible feedback and messaging system. So, since I actually do have stuff to say sometimes, especially about comments I get, I'm putting my blog out there. I have a Tumblr, and I've started posting some of my favorite comments I've gotten lately from my fills, and some of them... omg you guys you kill me sometimes, you really really do.

I also get questions here that well... I'd like to answer but again this site is stupid about messaging. So I'm giving out my Tumblr, to talk to you guys, cause I think that'd be pretty cool cause fuck I _know_ you guys have questions. I also know you guys like attention, me too; come say hi!

brokenballoons tumblr com

(I'm sure you can figure out where the dots need to be.)

* * *

><p>Altair was on the roof of Leo's house. It hadn't been hard to get there after all, these people didn't anticipate climbing like they did back home where walls were sheer and nearly unclimbable and ledges were almost always out of jumping reach. He'd been up here for almost an hour trying to get his head strait.<p>

So far he wasn't having any luck.

Ezio found him up here. "Where have you been?" he asked standing at Altair's shoulder.

"Up here," Altair said in a soft tone.

"What's wrong?"

"A lot," he sighed, still looking away.

"You going to tell me?"

"I'd rather not."

"C'mon, you can tell me. I'm your brother, you can tell me anything. You know that," he patted Altair on the shoulder.

Altair groaned and looked down. "I made a deal with Malik, for information. He gave us what he needed, I gave him what he wanted."

"And what did he want?"

"Wanted to know about us, our people."

"So you told him?"

"Yeah."

"Why would you do that!" Ezio's voice was sharp and accusing. Altair didn't blame him though. There were laws in place about this stuff. It was illegal to even breath a word about anything beyond the Rift to a Sheep. To do so got the Inquisition on your ass, and no one wanted that since you were questioned by the prophets. He'd rather get tortured by Templars. There weren't exceptions, at least none that Altair knew of. If anyone ever found out he might as well just kill himself now to save him the agony when they found out he was really guilty,

"To get our brother back," Altair spat. "Why else would I?"

"You're going to be in so much trouble Altair-

"Only if you tell anyone," he hissed back almost glaring up at Ezio. "I did what I had to."

"You betrayed our entire country Altair!"

"Fuck you Ezio!" he practically screamed. He saw red for a moment. He looked away muttering curses wishing he hadn't said anything.

Ezio blinked at him, "Okay, something else happened. You're way to worked up for it to just be about telling Malik stuff. What happened?"

"None of your business."

"You're my brother. Yes it is my business," Ezio insisted. "Especially since we both want Desmond back. You were doing it for him, so... I won't tell. But really what's the matter?" So Altair told him and he watched his brother's face contort in a bit of disbelief, a bit of shock and all around an bit of horror. It wasn't like it was bad he'd kissed a guy, it was just that it was a _Sheep._ Fuck he'd get in so much trouble for that too!

"Yeah, I know," he sighed biting his upper lip.

Ezio hit him, hard, on the head.

"Have you _lost your mind_?" Ezio hissed. His eyes were sharp, like knives. "He's a Sheep, Altair."

"I know. It was a mistake," he said calmly not even saying anything about Ezio hitting him. He deserved it. He was an idiot.

"A mistake? Altair you don't just _make_ mistakes."

"Well I did this time," he muttered.

"Since when? You can't make mistakes Altair."

Altair felt himself trembling slightly. "And what makes you say that? I am not infallible Ezio."

"You guys never made mistakes," Ezio said, "and you haven't so far. Why now?"

"Its been five years Ezio, I was bound to crack sometime," he all but whispered. "And in case you failed to notice he's dead and I'm here."

"I know Altair. But... this isn't like you. I mean really isn't like you. You have- had a fiance. Are you-

"You're an idiot," he said looking at Ezio harshly. "I'm doing the best I can with what I have."

"You still did something stupid and you know it."

"What do you want from me?" he stared at his brother. "You have no idea-

"I lost my family too Altair!" he snapped, "and our clan and just about anyone who was important to me. Don't tell me I don't know."

"No you don't!" he stood up now standing in front of Ezio. "Yes, we lost our family. But I practically lost an arm!" he yelled. "They killed Federico and you have _**NO**_ idea what that feels like!" he was seething. "Do you have any idea what that's like? Its like having to relearn how to walk! We were one and then he was gone. My twin, is gone. Don't tell me you know how I feel!" by the end he was screaming. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. "I had to look after you and Desmond. So that's what I'm doing and God damnit I will do whatever I have too to make sure that you two are safe. I will break any law in this country or ours to make sure my little brothers don't die and I don't loose the only family I've got left. Do you understand?" he demanded, still angry, though now he wasn't sure at what or who.

"I... yes," Ezio was looking down, at his shoes. "Yes I understand, sir," he practically mumbled and Altair realized what he'd just done.

"Ezio..." he reached out and grabbed his shoulder all the anger washing out of him. He wasn't angry at Ezio, he wasn't angry at anyone really, just at everything actually. What had happened to his family, why his brothers, his sister, his parents, all his relatives, and everyone had ever known was a tragedy. All that was left was him, Ezio and Desmond. He'd seen them all the others die out on the sand including his other half, Federico.

Beyond the Rift in the warrior class, or in any class really, twins were special. They were thought to be one soul sharing two bodies. Warrior twins were trained together, ate together, usually slept in the same bed. Where one went the other was within earshot at the least though often were more like arms reach. Two halves to the same coin. They relied on each other for everything, even when they fought. Their style was incomplete without the other since it required four blades and four fists and four legs. Without that extra set they were lost in a fight. It was why Altair was here and hadn't bled out on the sand with his family in the first place. He'd been knocked out after they'd slaughtered his brother. It wasn't like it had been hard after Federico was out of the picture.

Here he was though, yelling at his brother like it was his fault. What the hell was he doing? He had to keep him safe. It was the only thing he could do anymore, the only thing he knew how to do. After five years it was almost all he had. He had nothing else than this. Back home he was like a broken doll without Federico, practically useless without his other half. As it was he could see his own moves with a knife were sloppy and slow and pointless. He kept expecting there to be an extra knife to back up that tiny purposeful hole in his defenses, but there was none. All there was was a hole and he was busy playing catch-up with Ezio trying to close it, trying to relearn how to fight with only two hands and not four. Ezio of course didn't notice, he was still relatively untrained in comparison, but Altair could see it and he knew the Templars would see it too. It wasn't easy fixing about twenty years of training in just a few short weeks, but he was trying.

"I didn't mean to yell. Really, just a little stressed," he said.

"I still can't believe you did that," he said softly. "He's a Sheep Altair. Why would you do that?"

"Which part? The talking part or the kissing part?"

"Both! Its against the law!" he cried, practically beside himself.

"I said when we were first taken that I would protect you, _both_ of you, and I would do whatever I needed too to make sure nothing happened. That's what I'm doing now," he squeezed Ezio's shoulder.

"But-

"I'm doing the best I can here. I'm not dad or Federico, but I'm trying."

"I know," he said softly.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do. Why would you ask me that?" but Ezio was frowning as he spoke.

"Then know I'm going to get our brother back, even if I have to break every tenant and law we live by, I'm going to get him back and we're going home."

—

Altair wasn't looking forward to seeing Malik again. He knew he just had to suck it up though. After his talk with Ezio he'd put his head on strait again. It reminded him why he was doing what he was doing and why he really would _do_ anything.

As it stood they had a plan, but there was no way they could walk across the city from Leo's to Rodrigo's and not get seen. There was even less of a chance if they had Des with them and who knew what state his little brother was in. He could be weak, broken, starved, maimed... thinking about it made Altair's stomach throb uncomfortably. They needed someone to drive them and it couldn't be Leo. He knew the artist would help them if he asked, hell he'd given them _knives_. Ezio could make the blonde do anything he wanted by just batting his big brown eyes of his.

So that just left Malik. The weird little blue Sheep who had a crush on him. If it didn't freak Altair out so much he thought it would have been adorably tragic. But it was all they had and Altair had to suck it up like he sucked up every other thing he'd ever done to keep his brothers safe.

But Malik wasn't showing up. Not a sign of him in over a week and Altair was getting angry. He heard Leo talking about him, hell, talking to him on those electric leashes of theirs. But not the man himself. It was really trying Altair's patience, which he already had limited of in such a strained and stressful situation. But Altair wasn't some idiot and by the end of the week he'd found where Malik lived.

Which was were he was now actually. The building Malik lived was made of stone, not brick, something bigger, and was frightfully easy to climb. He hadn't even needed to though. There was a stairwell, made of metal, that went right up the side of the building. These people must be idiots to just do that. After that it had been simple to find Malik's... apartment, he guessed it was called. There wasn't even a word for a place like this in his tongue.

Window had been unlocked when he'd tried it and he'd gone right in. Malik wasn't home though, so at least he had an excuse, small one but it was there. It was late, the only time a pet walking around by themselves was at all acceptable without a note, so he just assumed Malik was working. Moving happened at night after all, couldn't be around breaking into kennels during the day. Hell shouldn't go around breaking into kennels at night either, sheepdogs were nasty bastards and didn't take kindly to Sheep that strayed from the flock.

So all he could do was wait till Malik got back. That was just fine with Altair. It was what he was good at, waiting. He could do so perfectly still too. So he found a comfortable spot, just out of sight of the door, and waited, still as a statue.

It was well into morning when Malik finally opened the door. The sun was just about to rise as he locked the three dead bolts on his door as well as several other locks when he came in. One thing was for sure Malik wasn't dumb, at least not totally. But his window was open, idiot. He walked into the room and turned on a few lights before looking around.

He screamed like a five year old girl and Altair laughed.

"What in the world!" Malik yelled as Altair slid off his perch, still laughing. "Holy fuck you were like a fucking gargoyle. What are you doing here?" he eyed Altair warily, "Come to kill me?"

"I don't waste my time or skills on Sheep. Better time spent killing sheepdogs," he said cockily, stepping forward. "Also who knew you could scream at such an octave. Impressive really," and he gave a little sarcastic clap.

"What do you want?" he asked, swallowing.

"What, nervous?" Altair asked putting his hands behind his back.

"I would think you'd hate me," Malik said, very obviously nervous.

"I'm not petty enough. Besides, I need your help."

"Really? Well that's an interesting change of pace. You need my help, _again_," somehow he managed to be sarcastic, he seemed less stiff though now, he seemed content to know Altair wasn't going to slit his throat.

"Gee, thanks," Altair said right back and with some of his own sarcasm.

"What do you want?" Malik asked.

"A ride."

Malik gave him a look of disbelief, "For real?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Altair growled.

"Okay okay," he put his hands up. "What?"

"You drive me and Ezio to the Borgias-

"Ha ha, funny, no. Not happening"

"Why not?" Altair gave him a look and stepped closer.

"You kidding? Rodrigo's high priest. I could go to jail, or worse-

"Oh melodrama. You just got back from breaking into kennels. You could get into a lot worse trouble if anyone ever found you were letting their precious slaves go," Altair said. "For starters you'd be arrested, locked in a windowless room with a bunch of sheepdogs. They'd start by questioning you and of course you'd try to not talk. But you see sheepdogs, especially the ones who torture people, are _very_ good at their jobs. If you don't talk from questioning they move on to psychological torture. They'd dig up your deepest, darkest secrets they can and use it against you. They would never actually lay a hand on you unless you didn't break under that. But it would never get to that because no Sheep has ever stood up to that sort of work and doesn't work on us because there is nothing for them to dig up."

"I don't break easy," Malik said defiantly.

"Okay. Say you don't break. Physical torture comes next," he took another step towards Malik. "And trust me, you'll sing like a song bird. Hell I know men a million times tougher than you that finally squawked after a month. Then they killed themselves out of shame for betraying their own people. Now, what I'm asking you to do is much safer. I just want you to drive me and Ezio to the street the Borgias live on and wait there till we come back out. If anything happens at most a cop will come by and tell you to move along. That's it."

Malik stared at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"How do you know that?"

"You're not the first Sheep one of us has ever used to help us make a hit Malik. We don't want our helpers to get hurt though, first tenant and all that. So we know your laws. Hell, an entire year of our academic training goes to learning the laws of your backwards ass country," he huffed.

Malik was silent, thinking. He was like that for several minutes then; "Okay, then what do I get out of this deal?" he asked.

"Oh, he isn't stupid as he seemed. You left your bedroom window unlocked by the way," Altair smirked, amused. Malik looked startled, then worried and left quickly. He could hear him locking his window.

"Is that how you got in?" he asked when he returned.

"Yeah. Though I could have just picked the lock... Locks, like most people would have," he said smugly and rocked back onto his heels. "But then I'm not most people. And most people can't get to windows of your... apartment."

"No they can't you crazy bastard. This is the fifth floor facing the street, how the hell did you get through my window?"

"Climbed. Really Malik don't act all surprised. You know the stuff I can do. I can practically climb a sheer metal wall," Malik nodded slowly, yeah he knew.

"Right," he said. "Still, I'll do something for you, so you do something for me. What're you offering up?"

Altair couldn't believe he was really going to do this. Really this was insane. Would probably work, but totally insane. He took a few more steps towards Malik till he was right in front of him. Before Malik could step back or move away though he'd grabbed Malik by the collar and dragged him close planting his lips against Malik's. It barely lasted a heart beat. "You help me and I'll give you some more," he smirked at Malik's flushed face, his widened eyes. "Deal?"

Malik's mouth worked for a few seconds, then, just like he knew he would; "Deal," he said, practically breathless.

* * *

><p>Yeah, I just did that.<p> 


	9. Rescue

The part you all have been waiting for (or I hope you have been and not all that _"feelings"_ crap). I'd get some tissues ready for the end btw, you're ganna need 'em.

* * *

><p>It was pitch black in the garden and Altair could hear Ezio breathing next to him though only just. They could both see the large house easily from their spot and the windows blazed with light, casting long dark shadows out across the garden that hid predators like cats and snakes and in this case raptors. The only sounds other than their own breathing came from inside and Altair could see Rodrigo in his study up on the second floor, he was talking to a pale, bald headed man with a disgusting face.<p>

"Are you ready?" Altair asked in barely a whisper, more like a breath of air. Slowly his brother nodded his face half gone in hood they wore to help keep themselves unidentified as well as mark them. No doubt there would be cameras inside that place, it was standard security. The hoods would hide their faces but anyone high up on the chain, or hell even any sheepdog would know exactly _what_ they were with one glance. It would also distract anyone who saw the footage since after a hit as massive as this would be there was little reason for them to stick around in the city and would draw eyes away from this one.

Silent as a ghost Altair slipped out their hiding spot in the perfectly manicured bushes towards the dark sunroom. From his pocket he pulled a glass cutter, a device Leo had in his own workroom for his art, and used it to cut a hole in the glass. It was only about two and a half feet tall from the ground and about that much across and large enough to fit their shoulders through. He put the cutter back into his pocket as he and Ezio carefully pulled the glass out and set it on the grass where it couldn't break. Less than a minute later they were both inside.

Altair tugged at his hood to draw it down further across his face as he pulled out the heavy knife Ezio had acquired. Without speaking they parted. They both had jobs to do and Altair knew Ezio would do his to perfection. For if he didn't they would be in so much more trouble.

The house was empty for the most part before he startled a pet caring an armful of bedding. Before he could tell her not to she screamed and fled. He cursed to himself and made for the stairs.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Altair looked up the stairwell and growled. It was the bald man flanked by two other men wearing suits, a red cross buttoned onto their lapels, Templars.

"Get out of my way," Altair hissed favoring his knife.

"Oh my, the heathen talks!" the bald man jeered, "Put the dog down boys," he ordered and the two on his sides walked down the stairs. Altair backed up a few steps to not give them the height advantage from the stairs. On the floor though Altair had the advantage and only he knew it. The two Templars obviously weren't wearing body armor, their chests weren't bulky enough. A bad mistake.

One of the Templars struck first, trying to grab at Altair as his partner pulled out a gun. What the hell? How did they have guns? He'd been sure they wouldn't have guns. He rolled with it and dodged around the first one and stabbed his knife through the first one's hand. The man screamed in surprise and pain, drooping his gun. He felt the first one looming behind him and ducked down and away. Their fist connected with their partner's face and the Templar went sprawling. Distracted Altair took the time to fit his knife between one of his ribs before dancing away again to avoid another swipe.

The one who's hand he'd cut was getting to his feet again and stood next to his partner. They both bled and looked _pissed_. Altair watched them with calm calculating eyes, waiting for their next move. The one with the chest wound wasn't looking so good despite him trying to stem the blood with his hand. The second one however was pulling out another weapon, it was practically a fucking machete! Altair swallowed as he transfered it to his remaining good hand and his knife suddenly seemed far to small.

Chest wound guy backed away as the other lurched forward with almost blind killing intent. Altair raised his knife to parry and the sound of steel on steel was grating. They traded blows and barely above the noise he heard a gun cock. Without thinking he dove away as the round exploded from the end of the barrel. It came from the first Templar who was still holding the gun. Altair looked around quickly before ducking around a corner catching the second gun on the floor out of the corner of his eye. The man with the blade followed him and Altair made a u-turn plowing into the guy with force enough to knock him off his feet.

The Templar with the gun was coming near and hastily Altair wrestled the man's almost sword from him and rammed it through his eye strait into his brain. The man only screamed for a second before he was dead. The gunman was in the room now though and forced Altair to roll off the Templar to seek cover in the form of an ugly yellow sofa. He cursed to himself when the Templar unloaded a few rounds into the upholstery. All he had was this one knife and that bastard had a gun. Altair hated gun. Not surprising since they weren't his favored weapons. He'd been taught how to shoot one but like most preferred the silence and personalism of a blade.

He looked down at the knife. It had terrible weight but it was all he had and he only had one shot to kill this guy. He hefted it in his hand grabbing the blade just below the hilt and looked over the top of the sofa. The Templar shot and he quickly ducked. Fuck! One shot, he reminded himself and popped up again as he cocked his arm back. With enough force to split a brick he hurled the knife and ducked again.

There were no more gunshots and he heard the solid thud of a body hitting the floor. Altair peered around the top of the sofa to check. The man was down, Altair's knife buried up to the hilt in his chest. Thank God. Almost frantically he scrambled from behind the sofa and grabbed his knife as well as the gun. He shoved the knife into his pants pocket and he cautiously left the room scanning for the bald man. He wasn't there though and Altair pounded it up the stairs.

He winced when he heard gunshots from somewhere else in the house and hoped Ezio was okay. He shook his head, he couldn't think of Ezio right now, he had to focus on his task.

He knew the way to Rodrigo's study by heart and rounded into the hall in was in. He ducked back sharply though when he saw the bald man standing at the end and narrowly avoided getting shot. What was he going to do? He looked around quickly looking for anything that could help. He peered down the hall and saw it was lined with window as well as several doors, but no where to hide. This wasn't good. He wasn't confident enough with a gun to hit the bald man at this distance and there was no way he could avoid getting shot at if he made a break for it.

He pulled his head back when an idea struck him and turned to the window just across from him. It could work, it could so work. He raised the gun and fired at the window. The glass shattered and he ran to it climbing around the broken glass as he heard the bald man shout and shoot at him. This was why Altair hated guns. He fell a few feet outside before his hands found purchase on the side of the building. Stupid people building their houses out of such easily maneuverable material. He ignored the other windows and climbed upwards as he heard the bald man coming down the hall no doubt to look out the window.

Quickly he reached the third floor window and opened it, thankfully it was unlocked already and he slid in. Inside it was dark and Altair could see a bunch of sleeping forms on the ground under blankets and no furniture in sight. This was where the Borgias kept their pets it seemed. He switched into his second sight and found a sleeping white form before going over to them. It was a woman with scars all over her face, and he placed his hand over her mouth. She cried out and tried to fight but he held her tight. "I'm not here to hurt you," he whispered into her ear trying to ease her struggling. "I'm here to let you go. Tell the others to leave this place as quickly as they can. Do you understand?" she nodded shakily. He slowly let her go. She was trembling but didn't move and he stepped around her weaving through the sleeping bodies to the door. It was locked from the outside and Altair took a step back raising the gun. Three shots later he'd blown the lock off and they were awake, several screaming. He ignored them, ripping the door open and ducking out and running down the short hall to the stairs, he knew the bald man would have heard that.

He'd made it to the second floor when he heard the others coming behind him. He looked back as they came down stairs and when he looked back the way he should go he saw several Templars coming towards him. He cursed and backpedaled up the stairs and a few seconds later was caught up in the tide of slaves.

The Templars yelled at them to get back as they struggled to get away but they didn't listen and surged forward. Altair slipped amid their number losing his gun amid their feet and retrieving his knife from his pocket. As the Templars slipped into the tide Altair was there, dragging them down into the bodies and cutting their throats open so wide they couldn't even scream.

"What is the meaning of this!" someone thundered and the body of people stopped. Altair looked out from the crowd at the bald man standing in front of them. He was massive even for one of Altair's people and had a scar on his scalp. Altair's eyes narrowed in dislike. "Get back up to the third floor this instant," he snarled and raised a gun on them.

He was distracted, not a lot, but enough. Altair darted from the crowd and before anyone could react he cut the man, driving his knife deep into his wrist. The bald man swore and dropped the gun. "Stupid dog, why won't you die?" he spat at Altair trying to fix the barrel on Altair. Altair punched him in the face as hard as he could. The bald man went down.

"Go, now!" Altair yelled at the pets watching and darted off, practically sprinting to the door of Rodrigo's study. Again it was locked but not as securely as the third floor door. He kicked the door in breaking the handle and it swung in violently on its hinges slamming into the wall so hard it stuck there. "Borgia," he snarled as he stalked into the room. The man was gone and Altair stood there silently. He could hear the pets leaving, their voices worried and chaotic as they stumbled down the stairs. Then there was silence. He heard the barest noise and Altair knew what it was instinctively. "I can hear you breathing Rodrigo," he hissed and moved into the room. "You can't hide from me."

He moved towards the desk and leaned over. He could see Rodrigo's bulk trying to hide behind it. In his hands he clutched a six-shooter. Smirking Altair leaned over and grabbed the far side of the desk and with a mighty heave flipped it onto it's side. The desk made a massive crash sound when it went down. Seconds later he'd relieved Rodrigo of his weapon. Before he had a chance to shoot however he heard boot-steps and whirling he saw the bald man standing in the doorway with a bloody nose.

"You insufferable sonuvabitch!" he howled and raised his gun. Altair was quicker on the draw though and shot him first. It was a bad shot though and caught him in the gut. The man slumped slightly and before he could right himself Altair launched himself at him and toppled him to the ground. "I'm going to kill you," he howled from the ground and tried to pin Altair under him and strangle him. Altair cried out when he felt his left shoulder pop in a way it wasn't supposed to as it dislocated. He retaliated with a swift punch to the face. The busted arm was actually the leverage he needed and Altair squirmed from the bald man's tight grip. He got to his feet quickly grabbing the six shooter and emptying the other five rounds into the bald man's head.

"Bastard," Altair muttered in his language pulling up his hood up once more before stalking back into the room now favoring his left shoulder considerably. "Real piece of work that one was," he told Rodrigo mirthlessly.

"What do you want dog?" the high priest snarled.

"Hold that thought," and he used his right hand to pop his shoulder back into place, he saw stars for a second couldn't breath from the pain. "That smarted," he said his voice shaking ever so slightly. "What do I want Borgia? I'm sure you know quite well what I want," he crouched in front of the fat man pressing his knife up to his throat. "Where is my brother?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," and Altair reached out with his left hand, grabbed one of Rodrigo's and broke one of his fingers.

"Where is my brother?" Altair growled again.

"I don't know," he howled. Stupid weak priest.

"He has a scar like this," he motioned to his own face. "Where is he?"

"Dead," Rodrigo hissed, "Or as good as," he sneered.

"Where?" Altair snarled into his face.

"Or you'll what?"

Altair blinked and removed the knife from his throat before systematically breaking all the fingers in both hands. The high priest was sobbing by the time he was done. "Where is my brother?" he asked, "Next time I have to ask I'm going to stick my blade down your throat," he hissed.

"Cellar," Rodrigo croaked.

"See, was that so hard? You could have saved yourself a lot of pain by answering me the first time Rodrigo," he growled and slid his knife easily into the fat man's neck. "Sleep now," he breathed twisting the knife violently and thoroughly shattering his spinal column. Rodrigo gargled and blood dribbled out from between his lips as he looked at Altair before the light left his eyes. Altair gently lowered his eye lids before leaving him there to finish dying and going back down to the first floor.

The house was eerily silent and Altair was growing anxious. What if Ezio was dead? Rodrigo had said Des was as good as dead and a pit opened in Altair's stomach. What if he lost both his brothers because of this? He banished the thought. No, no that wouldn't happen. Ezio would show up and Desmond would be alive, he had to believe that. He waited five minutes before Ezio showed up covered in blood.

"Have fun?" Altair asked sarcastically.

"Tons," was the reply in equal amounts of sarcasm.

"DId you destroy the security system?" Ezio nodded, "And Cesare?"

"Dead."

"As is Rodrigo."

"Did he tell you where Des is? I… couldn't get it out of Cesare," Altair knew it was a lie. Ezio had been to caught up in a momentary blood lust to remember to ask.

"Yes, the cellar. Lets go," Ezio nodded and followed Altair to the cellar door. It was locked and Altair muttered to himself. He had to kick the door twice before it slammed open and they went downstairs turning on the lights as they did so. Memories flashed for Altair. He knew this place if only by smell. It was where Rodrigo had sent him when he misbehaved, bound, gagged and blind folded. The room was familiar only in the two dimensional sense with its square shape and numerous doors.

"Check each one,"Altair ordered. Ezio nodded and they started at opposite ends. They had to kick the doors in so the room was filled with bangs as they smashed open each one. By the fourth one Altair's leg was starting to hurt. Thankfully he wouldn't have to anymore though.

Inside of the cells, for that was what they were, was a figure curled up in the corner. They were skeleton thin and dirty as sin their skin coated in dirt and grime. Their hair was long and terribly and the skin they could make out from the dirt was a patchwork of bruises and cuts. Altair's chest ached. "Desmond?" he called hesitant, so afraid he wouldn't get an answer.

He choked on his own breath when the curled figure looked up at him with desperate brown eyes. "Daddy?" he asked in that same tone he had back when he was younger and their family was newly dead.

Altair strode into the room, it smelled like feces and piss but he didn't care. "No Des, its not dad," he knelt down, "It's Altair," he said softly.

"A-Altair?" almost like he was afraid it wasn't real. Altair nodded and touched him, his skin was clammy. "Altair!" he cried suddenly and with more speed then he expected from someone in such a state latched onto him, arms going around his neck and sobbing into his chest.

"Ezio, I found him!" Altair yelled and in an instant he was cast partially in shadow as Ezio appeared in the doorway.

"You have him?" Ezio asked breathlessly as if he'd practically sprinted across the room which Altair didn't doubt.

"Yeah, I have him," Altair said softly holding onto Des tightly. "Des, we need to leave. Can you walk?"

"No," he breathed, "They broke my legs," and Altair gripped him tighter wishing he'd hurt Rodrigo a bit more for what he'd done to his baby brother.

"It's okay, I'll carry you," he said, "It might hurt," and Des nodded. Gingerly Altair scooped him up but it didn't stop Des from crying out in pain that was like a knife to Altair's heart. "It's okay Des, it's okay," he gently shushed and Des sobbed into his chest. "Go get Malik," he ordered Ezio who was just standing there still looking heartbroken. "Ezio," he snapped to get his attention and Ezio nodded and in a heartbeat he was gone.

Altair brought Desmond out of the cell and into the light of the cellar. His blood boiled hot in his veins as he looked down at his brother. In the cell he hadn't been able to see the extent of what they'd done to him but now he could see more. His arms were terribly scared and the ceremonial tattoos on his forearm had been carved out of his skin and the scars were fresh. Both of his legs dangled uselessly over Altair's arm broken and his feet were black from dirt and who knew what else. There were cuts and lacerations and bruises covering almost every inch of his body Altair could see even a few on his throat. Surprisingly aside from fading bruises and the now old scar on his lips his face was untouched, a single silver lining. He was also deathly thin and Altair could feel every bone under his skin as he went upstairs Desmond still with his arms around his neck holding on for dear life. What had these people _done_?

He reached the foyer when Ezio came back inside panting. "C'mon, Malik's waiting," he said breathlessly and Altair followed him out, Ezio holding the door open. The car was waiting in the large driveway and he could see Malik's curious face peering out from the passenger-side window. Ezio opened the backseat door and Altair gently laid Desmond into the seat.

"By the Father," Malik said staring at Desmond and Altair closed the door. Ezio got into the front seat as Altair went around the other side and sat next to Desmond. "Is that-

"Shut up and drive," Altair snapped at him sliding across the seat so his brother could lean against him. Thankfully Malik did just that and without another word put the car in gear and drove leaving the bloody mess behind them.


	10. Altered Perception

Fuck this chapter was so hard to write. Even more to reread and edit. Just... fuck, I am a mean person! Keep your tissues handy, especially if the last update got to you at all. I mean hell, I nearly cried writing this.

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><p>The ride was mostly silent except for Des' soft murmuring. Altair kept an arm around him and allowing his brother to cling to him. In the front seat he could practically hear Malik thinking he was doing so much of it while Ezio was stonefully silent though he knew the other was trying his hardest not to worry. They couldn't seem to arrive at Leo's house soon enough either but finally they did and Altair got out quickly going around to the other side and picking Des up. Of course Leo was waiting for them looking worried.<p>

"Is that it?" Malik asked leaning on the roof of his car.

"Yes, thank you," Altair told him his mind elsewhere. He saw Ezio talking with Leo at the door.

"Altair, who is that?" Des asked.

"Leo, he's a friend," Altair said glancing down.

"He is?"

"Yes."

"Oh... yes, he is," Des said no doubt seeing Leo's white glow in the second sight. "He won't make you leave will he?" he asked in a quietly terrified voice.

"No, he won't," Altair practically whispered.

"Oh my, by the Father," Leo said when Altair finally got close. "I didn't- " Leo was just speechless looking at Des. Altair had to admit he was as well. "He should have a bath," he said Altair practically seeing him put his head on strait and get over what was in front of him. He'd never say it out loud but Altair was grateful for Leo. He didn't know what to do but the artist seemed to at least have an idea. "Salai," he called and Altair caught the mute peer around a corner, "draw a bath," Leo ordered and the pet vanished again. "Come," Leo beckoned them inside.

"Thank you Leo," Ezio said.

"Yes, of course," Leo nodded looking sadly at Des in Altair's arms. "Where is he hurt?"

"You mean where isn't he?" Altair said gruffly and felt Des hold on tightly to his neck. "Legs are broken as well."

"Oh dear," Leo beckoned them along and Altair went without objection. They could hear running water, the sound getting louder until the entered the bathroom. "Thank you Salai," Leo said waving him away. "I trust you two can take it from here?" he asked.

"Yeah," Altair nodded and Leo left them as well.

"We need to get him out of those clothes," Ezio said and Altair sat Des on the seat of the toilet.

"Give me your knife," Altair held his hand out to Ezio.

"What happened to yours?"

"I left it in Rodrigo's throat," he said. Without another word Ezio handed his over, almost gladly.

"No!" Des practically screamed when Altair got close with it and shrunk away his face contorting in pain no doubt from his legs.

"Shhhh, its all right Desmond," Altair said softly. "You know we wont hurt you," he stroked his disgusting matted hair.

"Knives hurt," he whimpered.

"I know, but I promise this one won't. Don't you trust your big brother?" his entire chest was a knot as he looked at the teen. How could he have let this happen to his baby brother? Not even sheepdogs treated their POWs this way, it was disgusting and inhumane in every sense of the word.

Des looked at him with frightened brown eyes before nodding, yes, he did trust Altair. Slowly, so not startle him Altair worked the knife at the bottom hem of the filthy shirt he wore and cut upwards. A terrified whimper echoed out of Des's throat and Altair finished quickly allowing Ezio to peel the disgusting shirt off him. Altair repressed a growl of rage. Under his shirt was more of the same, only worse. A Maltese cross had been cut into Des' chest with a knife, the edges of the scars pale and ragged and it was obvious they'd been left to heal like that without any stitching. "Who did this?" Altair asked in a whisper and he could feel the rage coming off Ezio behind him like a vicious tide.

"Cesare," Des whispered and tried to press his hands across his chest to cover the infliction but the scaring could never be erased.

"I hope you made his death painful Ezio," Altair said.

"Not nearly painful enough it seems," Ezio hissed between his lips.

"What are you-" Des stiffened when Altair started to unbutton his pants. A few seconds later he started to hyperventilate staring at Altair looking mortified. "No no no no," he sobbed.

"It's okay Des, its okay," Altair shushed and lay a hand on his knee. "No one's going to hurt you."

"But-but-" he couldn't even form a proper sentence and Altair watched him internally curl up onto himself. "I didn't do anything bad this time," he whispered.

Altair had definitely not hurt the Borgias for the trauma they'd inflicted upon his brother. Ezio told him what they'd done to Des to break him before tossing him back to the kennels. It was disgusting and horrifying and it seemed that even after Ezio was gone they'd continued to abuse him in such a manner. If Altair could he'd take back what had happened tonight with what he knew now and _try_ to make Rodrigo feel all the pain and fear he'd inflicted on his poor brother. Some part of him knew that nothing Altair could do would satisfy him though no matter what he did since Des was so broken. Altair honestly didn't know if he could be fixed.

Using the knife he quickly cut away Des' pants despite his protests and screams. Once they were off Altair hugged him tightly and looked over at Ezio who's face was a mix of heartbreak and such unfathomable rage that Altair had to look away again before it infected him as well. "Everything will be okay Desmond, I promise," Altair cooed into his brother's ear, calmly stroking his back. "I promise," he whispered as Des shuttered against him. Gingerly he picked Des up and deposited him in the hot bath, the teen hissed as water hit his scars but he said nothing else. "Here," Altair handed the knife back to Ezio. "Go find a pair of scissors," Ezio nodded and left the bathroom.

Des just sat in the tub trembling the water becoming dark from the filter on his body and Altair grabbed the soup. He was reminded of when he was younger and he and Federico had visited their family when Petruccio was born. Everyone had been enamored with the new baby seeming to forget Des, who was only about four or so. Altair had helped his mother take care of his little brother, giving him baths and putting him to bed and making sure he ate his vegetables. Altair loved being a big brother,it didn't require showing off (which Federico was better at anyways) and no matter what he did Des loved him and knew nothing bad would happen. It was like that again now as Altair helped scrub away the layers of dirt from his baby brother's skin, every movement gentle.

Ezio returned with the scissors and Altair instructed him to cut Des' hair. When he asked how much Altair just said 'all of it'. As Ezio did that Altair drained the tub and watched Ezio with the scissors frowning. Every snip brought a wince from Des and not for the first time looked like he'd burst into tears. He held perfectly still until Ezio was finished his hair only an inch or two long and not at all even. But it was better then what he'd had before. Altair filled the tub back up while he and Ezio threw away his old dirty clothes and greasy clumps of hair that had collected on the tile floor.

"Altair," Des asked when he turned the tap off, tossing Ezio the bottle of shampoo.

"Yeah?" he leaned against the tub while Ezio busily scrubbed away at Des' hair in silence.

"Are the Borgias really dead?" he asked in a tiny voice.

"Yes, they are, and they or anyone will never hurt you again."

Des sighed and sagged back his head almost resting against Ezio's cheat behind him. "Don't let this be a dream," he practically whispered and his lips moved soundlessly for a few moments and he closed his eyes. Altair and Ezio traded worried looks.

Once Des was so clean his skin red from the scrubbing Altair emptied the tub for the last time. By then Des seemed much more relaxed, almost like he was drugged and didn't protest when Altair picked him up to swaddled him in a towel. In fact he seemed very content to just hold onto him. "Hey Des," he spoke in the same gentle tone he'd been using since they'd brought him here. The younger man just nodded against his chest. "When did this happen?" he asked slowly and traced the lines of where his tattoo should be. Though they'd been mutilated and seemingly ripped off his skin Altair knew each curve and sweep of the mark by heart.

"A little over a week ago," Des whispered, "Rodrigo was angry at me."

"Why?" Ezio chimed in sitting on the lip of the tub.

"He asked me to _see_, so I did and he didn't like what I told him."

"What did he ask you?" Ezio asked as Altair's grip tightened around his brother.

"He asked me if he would become the Holy Father... or something. I told him no, he would die before he had the chance. He asked me how he would die and I told him he'd be shredded by eagles," both older men snorted. "He didn't like it and demanded I tell him for real. I... didn't know how to make him understand," Des was trembling again. "He got angry and let one of his sheepdogs use a knife on me," a trembling finger traced the lines of the Maltese cross on his chest. "He asked me other questions but I couldn't answer, it hurt to much. I could barely see with my eyes by the time they were done with that, there was no way I could see with my third eye. But that just made him angrier and so he-" a sob forced its way out of his throat. "He cut off my tattoo. Then threw me down in the cellar to rot."

Des wasn't the only one trembling now. Altair was vibrating and Ezio fidgeted, his hands clenching and unclenching on the lip of the tub. They sat in silence two of the three fuming as the third tried to re-grip his current reality. "It hurt so much," he whimpered.

"Shhhh," Altair pressed his face into Des' newly shortened hair. His mind was working hard at the moment as he tried to figure what Des needed. He definitely needed a fresh change of clothes since his were destroyed and he no doubt needed a meal, a real meal and not whatever the Borgias had been feeding him. He needed to talk to Leo.

Carefully Altair shifted and set Des on the floor, mindful of his legs which still made him wince. He also needed a doctor to set the broken bone. Fuck that was going to be a lot of awkward questions and Leo didn't have a permit to own Des and both he and Altair were here illegally. He pushed that thought away though, he'd cross that bridge when they came to it. First things first, a change of clothes and a meal if possible. "I'll be right back," Altair said and tried to pull Des' arms from around his neck so he could stand.

"What? But-!" Altair was pleasantly surprised by the grip Des suddenly possessed as he hung on as if for dear life. "Don't go," he said desperately.

"I'll be right back," Altair said, "Ezio is right here, he won't let anything happen to you. Right Ezio?" he looked over at his other brother.

"Right!" he said proudly.

"See, now let go Des. Nothing is going to happen."

"You'll come back right?" he asked worriedly, "You said we'd stay together but then you were gone Altair-

"I promise, now please Desmond, I wont be going away again," and Des' grip loosened so Altair could slip from it and stand properly. "Watch him," he said softly to Ezio before leaving the room.

—

Leo didn't know what he'd been expecting when Ezio and Altair left earlier that night. He knew they were going to get their brother but that was all he could work out of Ezio about the matter. He'd fretted about it the entire time they'd been gone and had paced until Salai had dragged him to a chair to make him sit. That hadn't lasted long though and pushed Salai into one of his spare bedrooms where the children he 'owned' slept during their breaks.

He knew one thing for sure though, simply by watching the brothesr, and that was that neither of them expected Des to be in good shape. He could tell by the way they spoke about him, as if they feared the worst. Leo in turn was now fearing the worst and to give him mind something to do he prepared.

He and Salai bullied two of the smaller beds together before wrapping them in a much larger fitted sheet. In his mind he was already categorizing all the things that could be done to the poor kid based his experience with Ezio a few weeks ago. He had no illusions that if that had happened to Ezio in such a short time his brother was probably much worse off. If that was the case then there was no way he could let Des be outside where all sorts of germs and dirt could get into his potential wounds. His brothers preferred to share that big hammock but such a 'bed' wouldn't do. So Leo made them a more proper one, big enough for three people to sleep in.

That distraction though had only lasted so long and he'd taken to worrying again and more pacing. He'd practically worn a groove in the floor when he heard a car pull up to his door. He didn't know what to expect and prepared for the worst.

He saw Ezio first and his heart had jumped into his throat at the sight of all the blood on his clothes and skin. The young man didn't appear hurt though so Leo assumed it wasn't his. Then his eyes were drawn to Altair next and what he carried as he came up behind his brother. Leo had to admit that even his worst expectations did not quite live up to what Altair held in his arms. A scrap of a man with hair that hung over his eyes like corded vines. The bruising were extensive some of the more recent purple bruises overlapping the older yellow and green marks. Leo had wanted to reach out and try to be a comfort but he knew it wouldn't have helped. He had a feeling the poor teen wouldn't trust anyone except his brothers, possibly, ever again.

Both Ezio and Altair had looked lost, standing in front of him, like they didn't know what to do now that they were there. Leo had then quickly taken ahold of the situation and directed them to clean their brother up for it looked like he needed it. He left them to do what was needed gnawing on his thumb nail in worry since he didn't really know how to help which was really what he'd wanted. It was all he could do to stay away when he'd heard screaming from the bathroom and he wondered what was going on in there.

Shortly after Ezio had come out to find him.

"How is he?" were the first words out of Leo's mouth when Ezio approached him.

"He is alive," though he seemed glum, "Do you have a pair of scissors?" he asked.

"Yes," and he urged Ezio to follow him into his studio. "I... heard screaming. What happened?"

"Altair had to cut away his clothing."

"He didn't hurt him did he?" he asked foolishly trying to remember where he kept his scissors. It was practically impossible since he was thinking about a million other things.

"Oh course not," Ezio said, "Just... he is traumatized. I do not even wish to voice what I think they did to him that made him react so strongly to simply getting his pants removed," and Leo blanched, horrified, before finally finding the scissors he was looking for.

"You and I both," Leo said softly and gave the implement to Ezio.

"Thank you, I'll return it when we're done."

"What are you going to so with it?" he asked before the Rifter could leave.

"Probably cut off his hair," he said and left without another word.

Leo watched him go and tried to think of _something_ he could do. He knew the young man had broken legs, but there was nothing he could do about them now. A thought came to him and he rapidly left the studio passing right past the bathroom. He gave a momentary pause to look inside and saw the two elder brothers helping the younger. Ezio was cutting away his matted mane of hair while Altair helped him wash. Leo stared for several seconds since he'd never seen such gentleness out of the eldest brother, not even with Ezio. He quickly continued on his way when Ezio turned and looked at him.

He found himself in his kitchen. He bet Des was hungry, but he looked starved, there was no way he could have a particularly filling or even real meal. Leo raked his mind. What did you feed an emaciated person? Something easy to digest yet filling. Carbs and fat was a good idea though to much of either could make them sick. Not something like bread though, it was filling but that was about it. Something _like_ that though. He rummaged through his cupboards before finding something perfectly adequate, rice.

Salai stole into the kitchen as he set the water to boil, throwing it out and grabbing something from another cupboard. Leo didn't complain since Salai did the cooking most of the time and Leo was a bit overwhelmed at the moment. As Salai tossed the empty box into the trash Leo saw what it was, chicken stock.

"Well I feel like an idiot," Leo claimed and Salai laughed. "What would I do without you?"

'Starve,' Salai signed to him.

"Thank you," Leo sighed.

'Or live off carrots.'

"You are too kind," Leo huffed at him sounding annoyed but really he was grateful for the silent humor. It distracted his mind from what was happening elsewhere in his home. The rice was cooking when he felt more than heard someone coming up to the kitchen. He knew immediately that it was Altair since he could always hear Ezio. "Is everything all right?" he asked and looked at Altair's hands which were still damp and pruny as well as a little red from the hot water.

"Yes, fine," he said gruffly, his accent much heavier than Ezio's. "What are you cooking?" he looked at the pot almost apprehensively.

"Rice, for your brother. I'm sure he's hungry," and Altair smiled at him, a real honest to Father smile. It was so surprising that Leo didn't know what to do for a moment, since he had never even see Altair smile, not _once_.

"Thank you," he did seem grateful, "Do you have a change of clothes Des could wear?" he asked.

"Ah! Yes, of course," and Leo bustled out of the kitchen leaving Salai to do what he did in the kitchen. Altair followed silently behind him when Leo went into the spare room he'd prepared and opened one of the drawers of a dresser in there. He had basic clothing of all sizes in there in the event he bought a pet without adequate clothing for a certain type of weather so he didn't have to buy them. Altair stood silently behind him until he pulled out a pale gray shirt, black sweats and a pair of underwear. "I hope these will do," he said handing them to Altair. "Oh, one more," he said before the Rifter could leave. "Tell Ezio to change his shirt, its all bloody," he said.

"Heh, I will," he said taking the other white shirt from Leo and leaving. It took a great deal of will power to not nose his way into the bathroom. Instead he went back to the kitchen where Salai had something else on the stove.

"What are you making now?" he asked.

'Carrots,' he signed and Leo couldn't help it, he chuckled.

Not ten minutes passed before the brothers appeared. Des appeared to be in a much better state. His hair was cut, a bit lopsided but perfectly clean and every inch of his body appeared to have been scrubbed. The makings of what had been a beard had been shaved off to reveal the proud jaw he shared with his brothers and the scar on his mouth was pale against the scrubbing and bruises. "He looks much better," Leo said nodding as Altair set him gently on a stool on the kitchen bar. "Does he speak my tongue as well?" he asked in general since if he remembered correctly he had never figure that out and the one time he'd seen Desmond he hadn't spoken at all, just stared at him.

"Not as well as us, but yes," Ezio answered him.

"Are you hungry Des?" Leo asked trying to at least be a bit cheerful despite the circumstances. Des nodded quickly. Salai didn't even need to be told as he set a plate of rice and cooked carrots in front of the teen. He didn't do anything for a moment, simply stared at the food before Altair nudged him and spoke in a quiet voice. Ezio grinned at whatever he said though Leo didn't understand it. Whatever Altair had said put the kid's hands into gear though and quickly he was shoving the food into his mouth.

The poor kid finished in record time. "More... please," he added sheepishly looking like he could eat Leo out of house and home at that moment. Leo really did want to feed him but knew it was a bad idea. He was malnourished and his stomach was probably tiny, he didn't want to risk him getting sick, or worse hurting himself.

"I'm sorry Des, you can have some more in the morning," Leo said and the look on the teen's face was heartbreaking. It was like Leo had just told him to go kill himself or something. Then Altair was speaking in their tangled tongue and Des' attention went from Leo and food to his brother. He could tell by the facial expressions that's Altair was explaining why he couldn't have more to eat now.

"Leo," Ezio's voice caught his attention. "I know you helped me with my arm... would it be to much to ask for you to-

"I will," Leo nodded already knowing where the younger man was going. He wanted Leo to see what he could do about Desmond's broken legs. "Salai," he turned to the red head, who had already put away the rice and carrots, "go get me medical kit would you?" The pet nodded and left. Leo took Des' plate and put it in the dish washer as the brothers had an extremely rapid conversation.

When Salai returned Leo explained what he was going to do and Altair helped his brother to the ground where his legs could be stretched out in front of him, though doing so looked painful. First off he shot the teen up with painkillers since he seemed way to freaked out to have Leo near him for Leo to actually help him. Once he was high off his head on pain meds and delirious it was easy enough for Leo to find the break in the bones and set them properly. He was actually surprised they were easy to set since he doubted the Borgia had fixed him up at all. He wrapped both breaks in stiff bandages and splinted them before calling it a job well done. The entire process took little over an hour.

Once that was done there was an argument over where they would sleep. Like Leo knew the brothers wanted to sleep outside but Leo put his foot down. He didn't do it often but when he needed to he could be a bit of a tight ass about things and how they were going to happen. Finally they relented and Leo shooed them into the spare room. Only once they were there did Leo relax for the first time since Ezio and Altair had left hours ago. He finally stumbled into his own bed after that catching a glimpse of the clock as he did so with a groan. It read four in the morning and Leo was never so happy as then to finally drift off to sleep his mind to exhausted to be worried any longer.

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><p>Aaaaand, we're back to Leo.<p> 


	11. Graditude

Once, when he'd been a child, Leo had owned a cat. It had been a soft pale orange kitten that his mother had given to him as a birthday present. Leo had loved the thing to death and took it everywhere and where he didn't it would follow him to the point that it had to be put in a cat carrier when he went to school. But it wasn't a very strong cat and in fact was sick a lot, needing to always have someone watching it when it caught sick. Because of that the cat hadn't lived very long, only about three years, before it finally surcame to it's own ill fit body and died. Leo had been inconsolable for weeks upon weeks about the cat and it left his racked with guilt that he'd done something wrong that had caused the cat to die since it had passed while he was at school. He knew there had been nothing he could have done and he'd given the creature the best life it could probably ever have but he couldn't help it.

Leo was feeling that strange guilt all over again.

Since he'd arrived at Leo's home Des had been in bed and Leo kept him medicated while his legs healed. He checked on the young man every day and always under Altair's watchful eyes as if to ensure Leo didn't do anything that would hurt his brother further. That was where the guilt came from, from Altair's amber eyes. Even if he didn't speak it aloud or perhaps think it consciously that it was that the people of Leo's country that had done this to his brother and in some tiny way Leo was responsible. With his entire being he hated this country, even if he never acted like it, or spoke of it. Leo was good at seeing though and that was all he could see when he looked at Altair. So for that Leo felt like the Borgia's fault was his own and despite the thanks he received from the eldest Rifter every time he treated Des it also felt like an accusation.

To keep himself busy he worked, because when he became consumed with his work it was all he could think of and all he could focus on. He thought that that was better than worrying needlessly over someone who probably would have been frightened of him in the first place.

Malik came over often as well, curious as ever and even was allowed inside Des' room (that's how Leo classified it in his mind at least). The first time Des had seen Malik he'd been afraid, like he'd been of Leo then something had happened. Leo wasn't sure what, almost like his eyes had gone yellow, though he was sure it was a trick of the light, but whatever it was made him relax. Then he'd ignored the both of them only flinching once when Leo undid his splints (though he knew that was reactionary and not exactly that he was really afraid, more wary now) and talked with Altair who sat on the bed next to him. The teen seemed confused about something, almost a bit anxious but Altair's words calmed him as well as satisfied his curiosity.

After that conversation with his brother it was like there was a target painted on Malik whenever he was in the house and near Des the teen would just _stare_ at his friend like he was somehow more than he appeared. He spoke even more rarely than Altair did and when he did it was either all in Rifter tongue or half of it was and unless he spoke very deliberately he was practically non understandable. Once Malik had come over and was talking with Altair and Des must have heard because he hobbled out from his room to see. Leo thought it was funny. Altair however had been annoyed, angry even, that Des was trying to walk yet since he was still in heavy splints. After that if Malik was over now and one of his brothers was there Desmond was also there. He found Malik _fascinating_, like a new toy he wasn't allowed to play with.

It was the day when Leo decided that it had been long enough that Des no longer needed splits and after taking them off he'd checked the bones to make sure they had healed as well as they could. The fact that they no longer hurt and Leo didn't have to drug the young man up as much was a good sign that all was well though the teen was stiff during the entire examination looking at Leo worriedly if not exactly afraid. He'd finished that quickly and retreated away from the bedroom to his studio to work since he was actually falling well behind in his work for all of his clients, partially that was Des' fault since a portion of the time he even was working he was worrying over the kid even if he didn't need to, it was just his nature.

He was sketching out what would end up being a large commission when Ezio slipped into his studio. It wasn't until he heard a soft creak of the floor that he even heard the Rifter either and looked to see Ezio practically right next to him. "Is everything all right?" of course his first thought was that something was wrong.

Ezio only grinned in an amused sort of way, "Yeah, everything's fine, why would you think that?" Leo only played his pencil across the surface of the paper absently but didn't say anything. "I just wanted to thank you."

"You and Altair have done that several times already," Leo pointed out.

"I mean properly," he said, Leo just raised his brow at him. Then he was startled when Ezio spoke in his tongue, to him, not to himself or in general as he did often since he knew Leo couldn't understand him, but actually _to him_. As always Leo was baffled by what he was saying not able to understand any of it but he at least could understand Ezio's tone and every part of it was sincere and eloquent in a way Leo had been sure that such a language, one full of harsh syllabols, could be. When he was done he nodded as if to himself.

"I don't know what you said but it was beautiful," Leo said and Ezio grinned sheepishly.

"We don't have words like you do for thank you," Ezio said, "We know it is meaningful to you but for us it is shallow to simply offer a thanks."

"Oh," Leo frowned slightly thinking of all the times the brothers had thanked him.

"We have other ways to express gratitude instead for all different types of situations."

"Really?" he perked up slightly, "So what did you just say?"

Ezio chuckled, "The short version is that should you ever require anything from Altair or I all you need to do is ask of it and we will for nothing can amount to what you have done for us in return," he said and Leo was surprised by this especially since what he'd said in his own tongue was not nearly as long as that and he was surprised that such ideas could be expressed so quickly like Ezio had. He'd also said that was the 'short version' he could only imagine what the long version sounded like. "For our people this is the greatest gratitude since no one simply does something for nothing."

Leo smiled, he hadn't expected that, not in the slightest. He knew that the brothers were thankful but like that? No, not at all. "I don't know what to say," Leo admitted.

"A thank you would be nice," and they both laughed.

—

Leo was surprised that in the week that Des had the splits removed he was already able to jog. He'd expected it to take longer after all the trauma and the prolonged bed rest, but it was a delight to see him up and about. He was a good head shorter than both his brothers standing making him about as tall as Leo was and looked surprisingly out of place standing next to them. He also ate like he'd never seen food in his life whenever it was given to him despite the fact being told no one was going to take it from him. It was obvious he didn't quite believe them and Leo didn't blame him. He'd been stuck for a few months with the Borgias and who knew how often they actually fed him. He'd gained weight slowly while bed ridden with every few days Leo enlarging his portion to help stretch his stomach back to a normal healthy size. Back on his feet that fat was being turned into muscle by his own volition as well as exercises Altair had him do, though none as rigorous as the ones he and Ezio did.

He wasn't as muscular as his brothers though, nor did he seem to have the body structure for it either which Leo thought was odd seeing as how they had the same genes. Despite the musculature difference there was one thing Des was very good at, running. It seemed getting both his legs broken had made him appreciate both of them a lot more than he might have before and more than once Leo saw either Altair or Ezio reprimanding Des to sit the fuck down or something like that. Of course that just got them that heart broken puppy dog look and they caved at it and let him do whatever he wanted. Des had his brothers wrapped around his finger and Leo was very sure the others were aware of it as well.

The teen also got into damn near everything.

It was on one such occasion that Leo had to bodily remove Des from his studio because he kept distracting Ezio who was sitting for a portrait. Ezio thought it was hilarious but Leo not so much.

"Was he always like this?" he asked exasperated locking the studio behind the teen.

"Yes," Ezio said.

"Father," Leo groaned and sat back down, Ezio just smiled, amused.

"He's only like this when he knows he's safe, he likes you," Ezio said.

Leo wasn't expecting such a confession, "Really? I was under the impression he didn't like anyone but you or Altair, and maybe Malik…

"Malik fascinates him, but he likes you more."

"I didn't know," Leo said softly now feeling bad for having kicked Des out. He hadn't been given much of a choice though since he'd kept making Ezio make faces and Leo needed him to remain still.

"He said you were good the first time we saw you," Ezio said.

"He did?" he looked around his canvas at Ezio who wasn't moving again. Father it was like painting from a photograph sometimes the Rifters could be so still, well not Des, he was to energetic and full of energy to sit still. His brothers had a more reserved spirit, more likely to wait and watch before striking with blinding speed. Desmond was none of that.

"Yeah."

Leo turned that over in his head before his mind focused on something probably insignificant, "You said Malik fascinates him," Leo said slowly, "What do you mean by that?"

Ezio was silent, but that thinking silent he got when Leo asked him questions. Leo knew it was these silences where Ezio decided how much he would tell Leo if anything at all. Surprisingly he'd managed to get quite a lot out of Ezio over the weeks since his elder brother had showed up, he even seemed more likely to talk after an argument he'd heard the two of them having on his roof. There had been a lot of yelling and no doubt plenty of harsh words, though what the argument had been about Leo didn't know and Ezio wasn't sharing that information. "Remember I told you Des was different than us?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," that had been an interesting conversation and Leo still didn't quite believe it since it sounded to much like a fairy tale.

Ezio pulled a face, another deciding face, this one however was trying to figure out how to word it. Ezio was his favorite model and Leo knew all of his moods and knew exactly how to read the young man. It wasn't exactly as hard as he'd once thought, it was just that the man expressed differently and once Leo got that Ezio was rather transparent as far as his emotions being displayed vividly across his face. Unlike Altair. By the Father Leo still couldn't tell if anything made Altair happy since the only times he'd ever even seen Altair smile was that first night they'd brought Des home and then again recently watching his brother do something stupid. All the rest of the time he was almost painfully stoic or annoyed.

"He doesn't see like us," Ezio finally said his face smoothing over so Leo could continue painting. "Even different from me and Altair," Leo nodded, after seeing so many strange things happen with their eyes he'd finally asked Ezio about it, especially since Des did it often, always looking at _everything_. "I don't know exactly what it is he sees when he looks at Malik but it must be interesting," Ezio shrugged.

"Have you ever asked?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"He might be my brother but sometimes not even I understand him," he chuckled. "It's like it in his blood to speak cryptically about some things. Someone with more training might be able to figure it out, but I'm a fighter," he shrugged, "I don't concern myself with such things." Leo gave him a bit of a look.

"Someone with more training in what? What about Altair?"

"Altair, no, he's like me. It would need to be a scholar or another prophet."

The question jumped out of Leo's mouth before he could stop himself, "I thought there weren't a lot of prophets. Just a few that spoke the word of God," he'd done a little research since that particular conversation and especially since Ezio and Altair did use the word God, a word whose only real translation in Leo's language was more of an explanation for a fantastic religion and a belief in a pagan deity.

Ezio grinned, amused, "That's what you're vocabulary would tell you," Ezio admitted. "We have several words for what Des is, the most common one is simply 'prophet' and it's the most simple and easy to understand since everyone beyond the Rift knows the story of God and Adam and Eve and his prophets."

"I feel a 'but' in there," Leo said.

Ezio nodded, "A more holistic word would be-" and he said some vastly complicated word that went right over Leo's head. It must have shown because Ezio laughed.

"Okay I give up, what's that mean?"

Ezio contemplated that again before saying, "The one who sees truth where others see falsities and the one who can view the before and the beyond through the Animus without losing their unique sense of self."

"Wow, all that for one word?" Ezio nodded. "Amazing," Leo could appreciate such simplicity of a single word to mean so much. Ezio looked suddenly a bit out of place and Leo was half sure he might have been blushing, or maybe it was a trick of the light.

—

Leo ignored the fact that he heard the door of his studio opening. Whoever it was could talk to him if they wanted but he was busy. He knew by the footfalls that it wasn't Altair or Ezio, they were to loud, but not loud enough to be Francesco and Malik was over so he doubted it was Des. Salai then, probably. They stopped right behind him and he could feel their eyes on him which just made him nervous. He didn't like working while being stared at, it just made him uneasy.

"Can I help yo-" he trailed off as he looked around and was surprised to see Des standing behind him looking at the painting. It was the small portrait of Ezio he was working on as something to let himself relax and not stress over his commissions or paintings he was planning on selling. "Des," he said sounding as surprised as he felt.

"Hi," he grinned. He had the strangest accent, not as strong as either of his brother's but not even exactly any recognizable one from Leo's country either. It was his own, which sort of made sense to Leo since he'd been so young when he'd been brought here, no formal lessons on Leo's language, just what he could pick up during the five years he'd been here.

"Isn't Malik here?" he asked.

"He left," Des said and moved over to Leo's side. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Ezio just the other day when he'd kicked Des out of his studio for being a distraction, about how Des liked Leo and in a small way trusted him. He thought it was amazing that Des could be that trusting after all he'd been through. "That's really good," he said not looking at Leo but at the painting. "You make Ezio look happy," and he beamed at Leo in a way he wasn't expecting and Leo started in his chair. He looked back at the portrait and it just looked like how Ezio always looked when he wasn't emoting, sort of bored maybe, with a gentle cocky tilt in his lips that belayed no real emotion besides confidence in himself but he didn't look exactly "happy."

"Really?" Leo asked him giving him a look. Des nodded. "I confess I don't see it."

"Here," Des pointed at Ezio's eyes, "He's happy here," Des said fumbling a second with how to properly tense the pronoun and almost said 'him'.

Leo squinted at the painting but didn't see a difference, "If you say so Des," he sighed.

"Will you paint me?" he asked suddenly.

He was just full of surprises today it seemed, "Can you sit still?" Leo asked seriously. Des nodded. "All right then, have a seat," he said and Des sat on the stage cross-legged. Leo put away the painting of Ezio and pulled out his sketch pad. He did a few sketches of Des and realized that his body type wasn't the only thing different between him and his brothers. He had more fat on his face nor was he as lean, his shoulder's also weren't as broad and unlike Ezio and Altair's noses and faces which looked like they'd gone through hell Des' face was surprisingly unmarked except for that scar on his lips. Everything about him was also a lot softer than his brothers. Of course the most surprising part was the fact that Des was sitting still and it unnerved and actually upset Leo especially when he looked down at his sketches objectively and saw really what he'd drawn. He suddenly didn't want to paint Des.

"Everything good Leo?" Des asked awkwardly trying to stay still as Leo looked down at his sketches sadly.

"Yes, just fine," he said clearing his throat. "You can get up if you want, I'm going to go find a canvas.

"Okay," and Des grinned a bit and whatever Leo thought he'd seen in his sketches was gone. He contemplated the size and after a moment of hesitation he grabbed a rather large one, about three feet tall and a little over half that wide. Ezio's was smaller than this one but Leo felt that if he was going to paint the young man he might as well do it at a size that could be fully appreciated. By the time Leo had set up his canvas and ground it in a color he liked he called the teen back over.

"Now Des, you can't move once I start unless I say," he said.

"Okay," he nodded. "Can I talk?"

"If you want," Leo nodded and grabbed at his pallet and brushes and paint. He sort of just stared at the canvas for a few minutes barely knowing where to begin before grabbing his sketch pad and flipping to one he liked, setting it up so he could see it easily and started to paint.


	12. Assassins

Leo was worrying over his clothes when Salai peered into his bedroom. "Is he here?" he asked with breathless worry and awkwardly adjusted his tie for the hundredth time. Salai nodded and signed that he was in the living room. "And what about our Rifter friends?"

'In the yard. I told them to stay out of sight,' Salai signed as Leo finally decided he couldn't dawdle anymore.

"How do I look?" he asked anxiously of Salai. The mute reached up to loosen his tie which seemed a bit too tight and brushed off his shoulder before giving him a thumbs up. "Thanks," he said and left the pet by his room and went to the living room where a proverbial god sat on his couch. Antonio was one of the most wealthy men in the city who didn't have connections with the government or their priests. He owned the largest museum in the entire country and had a personal affection for art that found him with his own massive personal collection that he showed off in his museum. It was said his collection was worth more than the entire federal budget given to diplomatic relations, which was nothing to scoff at. He was a handsome man with slicked back black hair in a perfectly tailored suit. He seemed very at home on Leo's couch drinking lemonade from a glass.

"Ah, there he is," Antonio said when Leo finally came into his sight. He'd met Antonio at an art opening at one of Leo's fellow art friend's. That had been a very ritzy opening with dignitaries and priests even in attendance and was to be one of the most talked about shows all year. Personally Leo thought the art was shit and he was only friends with the artist, a man named Michealangelo, for his own reasons that didn't include his... _shining_ personality or his so called _genius_ art skills.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting," Leo said nervously.

"Not at all. Your little mute saw to what I needed just fine," he said standing and shook Leo's hand. Antonio had soft hands but with a surprisingly a firm grip.

"That is good to hear," Leo said quickly retracting his hand, which was starting to sweat. Antonio was here to look at his own work and the idea of it sent nerves through Leo's entire body that such an important and respected man was at all interested in his artwork. He'd almost fainted when he'd gotten a call from one of Antonio's people saying the man would like to come meet Leo personally and see his work.

"So, what have you to show me?" Antonio smiled at him pleasantly.

"That would be in my studio, if you'd follow me," he beckoned and Antonio followed him as he walked to the room.

"You seem nervous Leo," Antonio said as they walked.

"Ah well, it isn't every day one of the most influential men in art comes to my house," Leo said feeling ridiculous.

Antonio gave a little chortle, "Please, I am just a man like yourself, though one with a taste for fine art and the ability to pay for it," he grinned.

"That is an understatement," Leo said and Antonio chuckled, seeming to be in agreement. Leo opened the door to his studio and showed him in. He and Salai had cleaned the place top to bottom over the past few days and it was probably the cleanest it had been since Leo first bought the place. That being said there were still paint splatters on the floor and a little bit of clutter with white sheets thrown over some of his incomplete work.

"My," Antonio said looking around and even up at the ceiling where some of Leo's designs hung from the open rafters. "It certainly does have far more personality than Michealangelo's," he said nodded.

"You've been to his studio?" Leo asked.

"Oh yes. Though yours is so much more... personal. I like the space," he said taking a stroll around the room his shiny leather shoes clapping on the wooden floor. Leo wanted to just melt into the floor at that's sort of praise. "And wooden floors. I'll admit I don't see many of these," he grinned at Leo. "So," he finally took a seat on one of Leo's spare chairs and put his hands on his knees, "why don't you show me what you have."

"Yes, of course," Leo said now his enthusiasm and confidence returned at Antonio's words. It occurred to him that he was probably used to dealing with flustered artists who did not have a real name for themselves or were even too excited that Antonio was paying them a personal visit and thus were nervous or out of their element. The older man was incredibly good at smoothing over any such anxiety though.

Leo showed Antonio some of his works practically walking on air when the man complimented him though reminded himself to not let it get to his head. The other man asked all sorts of questions about the work as well and Leo was more than happy to answer him. After about an hour or so Leo called to Salai to bring them something to drink. He was surprised to find that Antonio didn't drink alcohol so while he was going to suggest wine at this hour he changed his mind asking instead for tea.

When he turned back into the studio Antonio was looking under some of the white sheets. He sensed Leo watching him and turned around sheepishly, "My apologies, I am a terrible snoop," he said dropping the sheet.

"It is no mind," Leo said walking over to the painting and pulling down the sheet.

"Oh my," Antonio said looking at the long painting of Ezio and Altair. The brothers were fully dressed and sprawled out under the sun of Leo's yard, the hammock they used to sleep in a bit of a defined smudge in the background their faces shadowed by the hoods they were wearing. He'd taken a picture of them weeks ago and was slowly working his way through it. "This is beautiful," Antonio said. "Who are they?"

"No one," Leo said. "Just some young men I saw once," he lied.

"That is a shame," Antonio frowned, "I like meeting the models of paintings if I can," and Leo had to swallow his next words. "What about that one there?" he asked finally tearing his eyes away from the incomplete painting of the brothers sleeping in the grass. Leo pulled another sheet off this one was also almost incomplete. It was the painting of Ezio and Francesco only he'd altered them slightly so that Francesco was an angel and Ezio was... well he was still Ezio only without the heavy black collar. He was smiling in the painting and had one arm around Francesco's waist who was nested against Ezio's chest with his eyes closed. "This one is very nice too, I think I like it better than the two men," Antonio said with a slight nod, "Do these two have names?"

"The boy is a pet, his name is Francesco."

"And the other? He is very handsome you know."

"Ah... yes, he is another one of mine as well," he said sheepishly.

"Really?" Antonio raised his brows at Leo, "What use does he have other than sitting for his master's paintings?"

A scowl worked its way onto Leo's face, "He is not what you're thinking. He and Salai help me and if you must know I bought him with the purpose of being a model because he is so good looking. To treat him like a toy would be a crime against his nature," he hated when people spoke of attractive pets as just _things_ or as accessories and things that had little value unless you were fucking them.

"I see. I meant no disrespect," Antonio said quickly.

"It is-" the door opened and Salai came in followed by Francesco. Salai carried a tray with some crackers and other finger food on it as well as a porcelain tea pot, which he set on the stage in the middle of the room. He took the other tray from Francesco which had the cups as well as milk and sugar on it and set it up properly after attempting to shoo the boy away.

"Francesco," Leo called and beckoned to him instead. "You said you liked meeting the models didn't you Antonio? This is the angel," and he ruffled Francesco's hair.

"I do believe I did," Antonio nodded seeming grateful he hadn't totally just insulted his host.

"How do you take your tea?" Leo asked as Salai handed him his own.

"No cream and one sugar," he said distractedly gently touching Francesco's face, tipping it up to get a good look at him, and comparing it to the painting. The young boy held remarkably still as the black haired man did so, only stopping when Salai finally handed him his tea. "How old are you?" he asked.

Francesco looked to Leo for permission before he spoke, "Seven, sir," he said.

"Really now? Tell me Francesco, who is that other man in the painting?" he asked gently.

"That's Ezio. He's really nice," the boy smiled brightly, "He always plays with me."

"He seems like a very nice man," and Francesco nodded with enthusiasm. "Thank you," and Salai took hold of his hand leading him out of the room. "You have very well behaved pets Leo," Antonio said. "You must train them well."

"I simply offer them respect and affection and they behave well on their own," Leo said.

"A very good point of view," Antonio said sipping his tea. "That red headed one makes an excellent cup of tea also," and Leo grinned. "What else do you have?"

"I've shown you all my painted work that hasn't already been paid for," he said a bit awkwardly.

"What about personal things? These last two were amazing," he motioned to the unfinished paintings.

"Well I do keep a large collection of sketches and I have a few statues...

"Really? I would love to see them," Antonio said.

"Ah... very well, one moment," and he put his tea down on the stage to rummage around his things. He heard the crinkled of crackers as Antonio helped himself to the food. Leo moved things around before pulling out a few of his sketchbooks of several sizes. "Here you are," he said handing them to Antonio who was sitting on the stage. "I'll get the sculptures as well," and Antonio nodded, one of the books in his lap and his cup to his lips.

Leo was going into another part of his studio when Antonio called out, "Leo, where did you find these models?"

"What?" he asked sticking his head around to look at Antonio.

"These men. Where did you find them? I haven't seen such perfect forms in a long time," he said nibbling on another cracker. "Or are they fake?" he looked over at Leo and rose a brow.

"Those... well," he forgot about his sculptures and moved back over to the stage. "That is Ezio," he said.

"No, really?" and he looked from the sketch book to the painting of him and Francesco. "And I thought he was good looking before," he said with a grin that made Leo flush. "I want to meet him."

"I don't think so...

"Why?"

"He's a very private man," Leo said.

"Oh," Antonio frowned and continued looking through the books. Leo swallowed when he came to one of the many drawings he had at Altair's back and the beautiful designs. It was cluttered with other sketches of Altair and while he looked very much like his brother it was obvious they were not the same person. "Who's this? What are those things?" he ran his finger across the designs. "Trying to draw Ezio from memory?" he asked with a little grin.

"Ah yes. I liked what I did so I just sort of made him his own," Leo said sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, Father grateful for that out.

Antonio hummed and looked through the rest of that book before flipping through the others which contained more studies of everything and sketches of paintings including Ezio and Francesco though they were older. When he was done with the others Antonio picked up the first one again and leafed through it. "How much would it cost me to convince you to part with this?" Antonio asked closing the book and waving the small sketch book in the air.

"You want to buy that?"

"Yes. I like collecting books of sketches of artists I like and I like its contents," he smiled.

"Um... well I never really thought about it," Leo admitted.

"I see. You have my secretary's phone number still?" and Leo nodded. "You think about it and call me when you decide," he said pleasantly and Leo wanted to just explode from happiness. "I especially like the ones of the Ezio who isn't Ezio, they're very—

"Everything all right?" Leo asked when Antonio trailed off looking at something. Leo turned and saw a bit to his horror that he'd pulled the painting he'd done of Des out while looking for some of his sketch books.

"That portrait," Antonio stood and went over to it, grabbing it and bringing it into better light. He set it up against the stage and just stared at it. "That is... you painted a pet," he said looking at Leo.

"I thought you knew that," Leo said slowly.

"He has his collar," Antonio said. It wasn't an uncommon practice for artists to use their pets as models, only it was like an unspoken rule to never leave on the collar, to always paint it out. It was practically taboo.

"Yes, he does," Leo agreed coming around to look at the painting of the young Rifter. He'd captured something in the young man that was totally terrifying. Leo knew him for his curiosity, the way he moved on his unbroken legs like there were hot coals under them keeping his steps so light it was like he was floating. Des always smiled or seemed to at least not be frowning under like elder brother of his. But what Leo had painted wasn't that Des.

He looked... broken. That was the only thing Leo could think to describe him as. The strain of five years in this country as well as the most recent months had left him dark on the inside, or maybe just empty. And that was why the image terrified Leo. It wasn't that he was scary it was that the young man looked like he was barely holding it together and that any moment would either break down into sobs or into a fury at the injustice put upon him. The dark metal collar around his neck was a clear marker to everyone why he'd become like this too. He didn't even have a smile or that tiny light in his eye that Leo knew was probably a bit of an act. Instead he just looked empty, lost, tired, terrifed and totally without hope for any sort of future.

"By the Father," Antonio said softly slowly reaching up to press his hand over his mouth before looking away. Leo admitted he'd had a similar reaction while he'd been painting it, that intense shame and guilt and despair that had clawed at his gut until he'd finally told Des they were done for the day and he'd gotten to see the teen smile again. "Is this young man real?" he asked almost like he prayed Leo would tell him no.

"Yes, he's real," Leo said.

"Is he yours?"

"He doesn't belong to anyone anymore."

"So he's dead? I'm sorry I didn't-

"No, he's very alive still, full of life actually."

"But this...

"We all have a side we don't show wouldn't you agree?" Leo asked, "This is the side he doesn't show to people."

"Leonardo I will admit this... this is one of the most amazing things I've ever seen," he said seriously and Leo stared at him. "I would like to buy it."

"It isn't for sale," he said without thinking and once it was out of his mouth he knew it was true.

"What? Why not?"

"Some things are not for sale and that boy will never be used for anything again including my own personal gain or yours," Leo said meaning every word. Des had come to him asking to be painted and Leo had done just that. "As far as I'm concerned this painting belongs to him and I have no right to sell it."

"He's a pet, he doesn't own things," Antonio said, his tone confused.

"That is still my answer," Leo said firmly.

"Then let me talk to him," he said.

"I will ask, excuse me," and he left the studio his heart pounding. He'd just told Antonio no. He was crazy! That man could make or break someone with a single word and he'd just denied him something. For a moment he wanted to go back in there and tell him otherwise but couldn't convince himself to. He believed what he'd just said and he wouldn't betray Des like that by selling his image to anyone.

He went quickly out into the yard. They were all there watching Ezio and Altair fight and for a moment Leo couldn't breath as he watched them. It might have been a cliche but it was like poetry in motion without a move wasted or a wayward twitch as they passed what seemed like bone breaking blows back and forth. Finally Altair grabbed Ezio by the elbow and before the younger man could react Altair flipped him over his shoulder and onto his back. Leo heared the rush of air leave him and Altair gently pressed his foot to his brother's throat. Des talked excitedly looking over at Salai who's eyes were the size of dinner plates as he watched. "Excuse me," Leo called, hating to be interrupting them. They turned to him, "Des, can I talk to you?" the teen quickly got to his feet and came over. He could feel Altair and Ezio watching as the elder helped the younger to their feet and stood there in that sort of perfectly at ease watchfulness.

"What is it Leo?" Des asked around his accent. His speech had become easier to understand over the weeks though it was still thick.

"Do you remember that painting of you I did?" he asked and Des nodded. He'd never actually showed Des the painting though since it has unnerved him and he didn't want the young man to think that was what Leo saw when he looked at him. Leo saw a young man who had gone through what most people could never live through and was working through what he had to in order to stay alive and healthy. Someone with more strength and determination than anyone he'd ever met and he didn't want Des to think he thought of him as something so broken as what he'd painted. "An associate of mine says they want to buy it."

"Buy it? Why are you telling me?" he was more than a little confused that was obvious.

"I would never sell it unless you said. It's you Des and that makes it yours."

"Really?" his face shifted into some sort of unreadable expression. Leo almost groaned, he might be able to read Ezio and Altair was always some state of stoicism but Des was the real mystery. It was looking into a blank mask sometimes and he couldn't even get an inkling of what he was thinking like he could get sometimes with Altair.

"He wants to talk to you about letting him have it," Leo explained.

"Um..." he looked back at his brothers and Leo followed his train of sight where they stood. "I don't know," he admitted and then without another word left Leo and walked over to his brothers. He could hear the Rifters talking, but it was in their own tongue and so it was beyond him. At one point Altair looked right at him, his amber eyes seeming to burn him before Desmond pulled his attention away again. Finally they stopped talking and Des returned, Altair with him.

"So?" Leo asked anxiously. Father was Altair going to be coming? He hoped not, that would be an entirely too awkward conversation to have with Antonio especially since it was obviously him who was in the rest of that sketch book he wanted to buy.

"If someone wants to see my brother I'm coming," Altair said. Oh great, just what he didn't need.

He knew he didn't have a say in the matter though. Either it was Desmond and Altair or he'd have to tell Antonio 'no' for real. "Okay," he said instead and brought them back to his studio. "Antonio," he called as they entered. The man was sitting on the stage picking at the food and flipping through the sketch book of mostly Ezio and Altair.

"Ah, you return," and his eyes went right to Des like the teen had a target painted on his face. "Is that him?" he asked even though it was obvious. "And who's this? You look familiar," he said thoughtfully.

"This is Desmond, the one in the painting, and his brother, Altair," Leo said.

"Their both your pets than?" and he started when Altair growled at him.

"Altair," Leo hissed softly at him unable to believe he was using that tone with him and apparently Altair was just as surprised. "At least pretend to have some respect." Then, in a louder voice said to Antonio, "Yes," he said.

"And here I thought all your pets were well behaved Leo-

"I am no one's slave," Altair said his accent a dead give away and Leo pressed his hand over eyes. "Nor is my brother and since you wish to buy his portrait I suggest you change your tone," he said his eyes and voice hard as he stared at Antonio.

Antonio swallowed, "Leo?" he squeaked, "Are they _Rifters_?"

"Yes," Leo said.

Before anyone could say anything else though Des moved from Altair's side and went over to the stage where he could see his painting and gave Antonio as much space as he could before snatching it up and walking away. "Altair," he called after a few moments and Leo could hear a strain in his voice. Altair left Leo's side and went to his brother and they talked between each other.

"You didn't tell me it was a Rifter you painted," Antonio accused Leo, standing sharply.

"You didn't ask," Leo said frowning, "What does it matter anyways? He's still human, he isn't some lesser being because of his birth," Leo said seriously agitated.

"They're barbarians," Antonio hissed soft enough to not be noticed.

Leo just pointed at the brothers, "You look at that and tell me they're barbarians or monsters Antonio, I dare you," he challenged. Des had set the painting down and it lay on its painted side and he was clutching at his brother trembling. Altair held him tightly his lips pressed into his hair to comfort him. It made Leo's heart ache to see them like that. "If you do please get the fuck out of my house because I wont have such talk about these poor men under my roof. They've been through to much for you to be so cruel," and he looked at Antonio who was just watching them.

Then the older man looked away as if ashamed of himself. "I can't," he said softly. "Is he all right?"

"He will be," Altair spoke startling them both and Leo had a sick feeling he'd heard everything. "Give him a minute," and then his voice became to low to hear and he seemed to be speaking right into Des' ear. Leo sat down on the stage heavily and Antonio followed slower but eventually sat as well.

After several minutes Des finally was able to get ahold of himself and pulled out of his brother's embrace. Altair pressed the heel of his hand to his little brother's eyes, obviously to wipe away whatever tears he had. They shared another short conversation before Des nodded to some question given to him and Altair let him go entirely and bent down to scoop up the painting. Des moved to a comfortable space in front of Antonio, not close enough to touch but not to far either. Altair stood right behind him holding the painting down and in front of him, the painted surface facing his legs. Des' face was a bit swollen but he was surprisingly together. "Leo told me you wanted to buy my portrait," he said to Antonio, speaking slowly to be better understood.

"Yes, its an amazing portrait."

"Why? Why do you want it?"

"Because I've never seen anything like it," Antonio confessed. "Most artists would never dream of painting something so... controversial," he looked at Leo from the corner of his eye. "A collared man, on top or it you're a Rifter."

"Rifter?" Des looked back at Altair obviously unfamiliar with the word. Altair's response was something strange and hissing and for the first time he realized that Altair had just called his people by their real name and not what Leo's country gave them. It sounded like 'Assassin,' though the word was foreign to Leo and he couldn't begin to understand the complexities that seemed to accompany every single word the Rifters spoke and made Leo's language bulky in comparison.

Des turned back around, "What would you do for it?"

"Name your price," Antonio spread his arms, "I can get you anything you desire."

Des looked back at his brother sadly for a moment before he looked at the art buyer again. "Home," he said in a small voice, "I want to go home."

Antonio was not expecting such a request. "Home? You mean to the Rift?"

"Yes," Des said his voice soft, barely a word but rather air shaped into the sound.

Then Antonio said the last thing it seemed any of them but Des expected: "Okay. I can do that." For the first time since he met Antonio Des smiled.


	13. Removal

There were some things Leo thought would never happen. One of them had been the actual idea that the Rifters would ever actually be leaving.

It had started a few days ago, an entire week after Antonio had come to Leo's home. Two people had shown up at Leo's door asking to be let in. They introduced themselves as Rosa and Ugo and Leo remembered seeing them before at art openings of in news articles that featured the art collector. They were his right hand… men? He supposed even though Rosa was too beautiful a woman to ever be compared to a man. Whatever they were Leo knew they worked closely with Antonio and everything he knew they knew. Leo was also surprised to recognize Rosa by her voice since she was the one who'd called Leo in the first place about meeting Antonio.

They hadn't even asked about the Rifters at first, they wanted to see the painting he'd fallen in love with, convince Leo to sell his sketch book and ask Leo a bunch of personal questions and Leo couldn't even begin to fathom why. They of course saw the brothers, they did live in the house after all and it was impossible not to see them, though they didn't talk to them or about them until today.

Today the two were accompanied by another man with ginger colored hair and strange purple eyes. Leo was wary of him since he'd never heard of or seen this man before. Rosa however was quick to smooth over his worries.

"This is Gilberto," she told Leo, "He's worked with Antonio before and he trusts him to keep his mouth shut."

"And what exactly do you do Gilberto?" Leo asked.

"I'm a thief," he said grinning and showing off rows of white teeth in a predatory manner, "Among other things."

Leo looked at Rosa worriedly, "And what is he here for?"

"Among these other things is a very useful skill," Rosa said, "Before we continue it cannot appear that we're breaking the law by working with pets. He's here to remove the collars," Leo blinked, a bit stunned. Only kennel owners could remove collars or put them on, anyone who did and wasn't was breaking the law and could go to prison and was fined an exorbitant amount of money. "Now why don't you go get them and we can get this moving," she said shooing Leo away.

He found the two elder brothers outside, wrestling. For a second Leo had a flash back of the first time he'd met Altair and the two had attacked each other with the intent to kill one another. He shook his head to clear it. They would never do that. "Altair, Ezio," he called their names and after a few seconds they stopped, but only when Altair had his brother pinned, forearm strapped across his neck.

"What is it Leo?" Ezio wheezed before Altair let him go, pulling him up after him. The day was hot so they'd forgone some of their clothing during practice, yet were still sweating in the heat.

"Please come inside. Someone is here to remove your collars," he said and they both looked startled.

"Really?" Altair asked as Ezio reached up to tug at his own. Leo nodded and Altair shoved his brother forward since he looked to be in an almost confused daze.

"Where's Des?" Leo asked as they walked inside.

"He was hungry so went to bother Salai for something to eat," Altair said sounding distracted as he pulled on a shirt, Ezio however didn't bother and Leo knew Altair only did it because of the marks on his back. Ezio had explained those to him and knew Altair wouldn't show them to just anyone without reason.

"I see, this way," he said leading them back inside where Rosa, Ugo and Gilberto were waiting. "Here they are," he said, "Well two of them at least."

"Who wants to go first?" Gilberto asked pulling out a rolled up tool kit from his bag.

"Ezio will," Altair said before Ezio could argue and Altair sat his brother in front of the red head. Leo smiled wanly, even now Altair put his brothers before himself and he didn't doubt he wouldn't sit himself until both Ezio and Des had been rid of their own collars.

Ugo moved over next to him, "Which one of them is the one from the painting?" he asked in a soft tone as Gilberto told Ezio to turn around and put his long hair up in a higher pony tail so he could get at the back of the collar.

"Neither," Leo said. "There's another."

"Where is he? Rosa and I have been anxious to meet him," he said with that same look Antonio got when he'd said he like meeting the models.

"I'll get him," Leo assured him and with a quick glance at Ezio left the group where Altair was watching Gilberto with a hawk-like gaze. He found Des and Salai in the kitchen where Salai was making something on the stove. "Salai," he said and the mute looked up attentively. "We have guests over."

'How many?'

"Three," he said and Salai nodded.

'I'll be sure to make enough lunch for them,' he signed almost carelessly as he watched the frying pan.

"Is it those people who work for Antonio?" Des asked looking at Leo with that unreadable expression of his.

"Yes, but don't worry about that right now," he said gently as Salai plated what looked like a grilled cheese and handed it to Des. The teen took it and ate without saying anything except a nod.

"Who's the other?" Des asked around his food.

"You'll see," was all Leo said not wanting to interrupt Des while he was eating. Des just nodded and refocused on the sandwich which was gone within a minute.

'Thanks Salai, you're great,' Des signed with actually surprised Leo since he couldn't remember when Des had ever learned to do so or even showed an interest. Salai on his part just blushed, then he chirped something in that Rifter tongue and the red spread to all the rest of the red head's face and throat. Leo just watched curiously and little perplexed wondering what in the world was going on.

Leo was about to open his mouth to ask when a loud 'whoop!' echoed through the house, very obviously Ezio's voice as well. "What was that?" Des asked.

"Your brother, c'mon," he grabbed Des by the hand and pulled him out of the kitchen and back to the living room where Ezio was standing now his hands around his neck looking positively beside himself and talking rapidly to Altair who looked amused. Next to him Des started speaking and Ezio pulled his hands away from his throat revealing the bare skin of his neck with a grin.

"All right, enough of that who's next," Gilberto said looking his best to not appear pleased by Ezio's obvious enthusiasm. Altair grabbed Des away from Leo and sat him in front of the thief, his back to him and crouched in front of his brother because Des had suddenly gone all stiff. Obviously Des was better, but the ginger haired man was still a stranger and thus a little frightening and when Gilberto reached out he jerked away, startled. "Hey now, I'm not going to hurt you, just hold still," Gilberto said in a calming voice. Altair was holding onto both of his brother's hands and talking in a quiet tone. The next time the thief went to remove the collar Des only flinched but allowed the man near.

Ugo sidled up next to Leo as Gilberto did what he did. "That's him?" he asked.

"Huh?" he was momentarily confused before realizing what Ugo meant, "Yeah," he nodded.

"It doesn't look like him," Ugo frowned.

"Good."

The man looked at him, "Isn't a portrait supposed to look like the person?" he asked.

"Not everything is as they appear," Leo said and Ugo was quiet, thinking. Then there was a click as metal popped and Gilberto unhinged the dark collar and tossed it into his bag where it clattered against Ezio's. The teen quickly moved away, standing at a distance from everyone and inspecting his neck and throat with his fingers curiously. Altair was already sitting in front of Gilberto patiently, his face unreadable. "Besides, I think he looks better like that," he nudged Ugo to look at Des who had a grin on his face. "He's had a collar on since he was twelve," he spoke only to the other man, "I doubt he remembers much of what it was like to not wear one," he fixed Ugo with a stare and the man looked down at his shoes.

—

It turned out that Gilberto was many things besides a thief and a remover of collars. The one that was important though was his connections with people known as 'movers'. Leo had only ever heard about them in the news though and they were terrorists who broke into kennels and freed pets and usually more than not destroyed the kennels from the inside out so they couldn't be used again. As a general consensus the populous hated them because they disrupted the normal way the world went. Leo however liked movers, or at the very least respected them because they fought bodily against the system.

Gilberto himself wasn't a mover, but he knew movers. He explained that to get out of the country and to the Rift it would require their help because no one was better at moving through the country without being detected like a mover. They lived in low profile and didn't draw attention to themselves and knew how to hide within a moment's notice. Rosa and Ugo did not seem at all surprised by this news so they must have been in on the plan. What was the most shocking though was Antonio's level of commitment. He hadn't expected the art dealer to do half of the things he'd done so far thinking it would be easy. But no, not at all, what they were doing was insanely illegal and if anyone ever found out they'd be tried for treason against the state and the Rifters would be killed without trial.

Apparently he'd been making plans since Antonio first contacted him a few days before Rosa and Ugo first showed up. Of course the biggest problem was that getting in touch with movers wasn't exactly easy because of how secretive they were. They had to be, all in the same of self preservation, be leery of everyone or you might find yourself getting shot. Today though was the day that Gilberto said they were going to meet with some movers to plan out what was going to happen and how they were going to get them not just out of the most well protected city in the country, but across the most well protected border in the entire world. The only reason Leo was also even allowed to be in on the meeting was because it was his house, otherwise Gilberto said he didn't want to put more civilians at risk, so Rosa and Ugo had been shooed away so it was just him, the thief and Altair and Ezio. He didn't know why Des wasn't there but he figured his brothers had their reasons.

Gilberto got the door when the ringer went off and came back with four people. They all looked very normal and Leo stared at one because he was so familiar. "Ma-" and then he shut up when Malik put a finger to his lips; not a word, his eyes said. He glanced over at Altair and Ezio and they didn't seem surprised at all to see Malik. Immediately he felt like he'd been lied too and that no one told him anything.

"Everyone, these are the movers I was talking about," Gilberto said. "They don't know who you are and likewise we don't know who they are." LIES, Leo screamed in his head forcing himself not to glare at Malik. He couldn't believe his friend had kept this from him! They'd known each other for almost ten years and he'd never had an inkling that Malik did something so… so… illegal and dangerous! "This is to keep them safe as well as make certain that if anyone here is caught no one can tell anyone anything," Gilberto continued.

"So what do we call them Volpe?" asked the only woman mover.

Gilberto looked at them expectantly and without even seeming to need to think about it Altair leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. "You may call me Sicarius," and just the way he said it made Leo shutter like he knew it was something terrible.

"Aquila," Ezio said stated without passion and then turned to his brother to say something, Altair grinned in a way that wasn't at all pleasant.

The movers were looking at Leo now, "I… you don't need to know me," he said.

"A fair statement," another of the movers nodded, he was a blonde and had piercings, "Nothing is safer than not having a name," there was a bit of nodding, "I am Night."

"Pseudonym," said the woman.

"Parker," said the third man.

"King," Malik said passively and was looking right at Leo as if knowing he just wanted to burst with questions and yell at Malik. Then he looked away, "You said there was a third? Where is he?"

"He isn't here," Altair said.

"Why not?" Night asked curiously.

"Because he doesn't like strangers," he said clearly. "You can meet him once we decide to let you."

"Okay," Night said, it was obvious he was the leader of the small group. "Volpe's told us you want to go to the Rift, that isn't an easy thing to do."

"But not impossible," Parker cut in. "However we can't ensure your safety amid the Rifters."

Ezio laughed, "This one must be stupid brother," he told Altair who nodded. "We _are _the Rifters," he said and both Parker and Pseudonym took a step back. "It will be you who must be wary of where we're going, not us."

"I see," Night said slowly. "You didn't tell us we were dealing with barbarians Volpe," he accused Gilberto.

"You're terrorists, what do you care?" Gilberto said sarcastically with a look.

"We have standards sometimes thanks," Night said sounding offended.

"Can you do it?" Altair asked, "Get us to the Rift?"

"Of course we can, who do think we are, the idiots from New Vegas?" Night sneered his distaste obvious.

"How?" Altair asked not at all intimidated or even impressed.

"It's helpful your sans collars, we can just drive out of the city though it'll take a few days to reach the border. That's the tricky part," Parker cut in as if seeing that Altair and Night were going at it. "Not impossible it will just take some time and some luck."

"Luck?" Ezio asked.

"The government has heavy patrols along the entire border with the Rift. If we get caught, we're kinda fucked-

"On the contrary," Altair interrupted, "They're the ones fucked. My brother and I have killed more than enough of those stupid sheepdogs for it to be no trouble at all," there was obvious confusion amid the movers.

"They call the military sheepdogs I guess," Malik said trying to help along the thought process. "Father knows why," he shrugged.

"You'd really kill them?" Pseudonym asked.

"Wouldn't you?" Altair asked right back.

"No, of course not, that's barbaric," she said wrinkling her nose.

The Rifters rolled their eyes, "The military won't cause us problems. If they spot us Aquila and I will deal with them," Altair said.

"Fair enough," Night nodded. "After the border there's of course the desert trek to the Rift itself."

"We're well aware," Altair growled.

"Good, you'll need proper clothing for the journey as I'm sure you know," he looked over at Leo expectantly obviously realizing he was their sponsor.

"Tell me what they need and I will provide," Leo said though at the same time wondering just how far he'd have to go.

"Good to hear. This was just a meeting for us to see you really. Volpe will be our go between until we're ready, he'll let you know what you have to do, what you'll need."

"Okay," Altair nodded. "Thank you," he said and Leo knew it wasn't a shallow thanks even though he knew such words could be.

The mover just nodded and they left, showing themselves out. "Is that all?" Leo asked Gilberto.

"For now yes, we'll be in touch," he told Leo and shook all their hands before leaving as well.

As soon as he was gone Leo turned on the brothers, "Did you know?" he accused them.

"Know what?" Ezio asked at least having the dignity to sound confused.

"About Malik?" he demanded.

"Yes," Ezio didn't even seem apologetic.

"You could have told me."

"No we couldn't have," Ezio said looking confused. "It's his business and if he wasn't going to tell you than we had no right to either. Why are you upset?"

"I've known Malik for seven years-

"He didn't want you to get hurt, obviously," Altair said standing. "It is like us in this country, people we are close to are in danger simply by knowing of our existence. We are better to be ghosts in the night and unseen by everyone, especially our friends. It's why when we leave I ask that you forget we ever existed," he looked right into Leo's eyes when he said that.

Leo was taken aback by his words and especially by his request. "I can't just do that. You've been here for months," Leo protested.

"It's for your own safety. I can't take away your memories Leo, I'm simply telling you how to keep yourself safe should the time come that something happens. Malik knows that as well and that's why he never told you."

"He told you two though," he said, fighting to retain his argument.

"So we would trust him. He didn't need to for you. You're his friend. He expected you to understand," and Leo felt suddenly like a child who'd just been scolded for throwing a tantrum. What Altair said sounded very much like Malik and seemed extremely reasonable actually since it was true.

"I suppose," Leo said pursing his lips and feeling very out of place now.

"I'm sure he'll tell you now," Ezio said with a stupid almost mocking grin on his face and Leo gave him a look, Ezio's grin just became a smile. Leo was rather pressed to admit he wasn't a little amused.


	14. Permanent Alterations

Leo had trouble with the following week just keeping everything strait in his life which was suddenly being upended and thrown out. Sure his life had changed when he'd first bought Ezio, in ways he could never explain properly, but that had been almost four months ago and now he couldn't even imagine his house without Ezio and his brothers. They were a part of his household, and in some way a part of his crazy extended family that involved all the pets he'd ever bought or cared for and freed. He always grew attached to the pets he bought even if he knew they'd all leave eventually, but he always kept in touch with them except for a few that just fell off the map. But this was the first time he was purposefully saying goodbye with the express intention of never seeing them again, and he knew he never would.

As soon as he'd been able he'd called Malik. He hadn't yelled, he'd just guilted Malik into feeling terrible for keeping that from him. He knew he shouldn't, that he should listen to Altair's advice, but he just couldn't. Other than that though he heard little from his friend and he knew it was because he was preparing with the other movers.

Gilberto was over often and he and Altair talked constantly, getting everything in order and figuring out how things were going to go. Gilberto was just a liaison though and Leo knew that eventually the movers would come back and when they left the Rifters would with them. Still some part of him detested the movers and Malik because of what they were going to do. The thief told him that they'd need some clothing for the journey, ones suitable for hot days and cold nights. Leo had no idea what sort that was though because the weather was always temperate and about the same temperature all year in the capital. Ezio expressed the fact that he knew what sort of clothing was needed so he'd dragged Ezio out with him to find some.

It was strangely entertaining actually.

"You act like you've never been in a department store," Leo told him.

"You act as if I have," Ezio said purposefully trying to flatten his accent into something more similar to Leo's. It was a terrible, _terrible_, accent.

"You've been here five years," Leo pointed out as Ezio rapidly flipped through a dozen shirts.

"I was normally not allowed out of the house," Ezio said lazily and Leo winced, of course, he should have thought of that. "Though once someone tried to use Altair as a prize fighter… it was a very successful venture until Altair broke our master's teeth," he snickered.

Leo stared at him, "Why would he do that?"

"He tried to sell Des back to a kennel," Ezio said moving with perfect fluidity through the men's section, towering over everyone else there and looking so out of place because of his height. Most people turned away from him as if afraid to meet his gaze. "Also," he said stopping again and looking at another rack of clothing with seemingly little interest, "stores like this do not exist where I live," he spoke in a softer tone now, "Everything is— what is the word? Tailored, I think?" he frowned, "Nothing so mass produced and flimsy as this," he flicked the clothes away. "Are there specialty stores we could go to?" he asked changing subjects abruptly.

"Yes, what sort of specialty?" he asked dragging him towards the exit.

Ezio looked thoughtful and played with the necklace he'd taken to wearing. All three of them were still adjusting to life without a collar: Ezio had found a necklace amid a collection of things Leo didn't look at to often, Des wore a scarf, and Altair wore nothing but at least twice had scratched his skin on his neck raw before Des (of all people) had put a scarf on him and it had stayed. He knew it wouldn't be long before they got used to it but it didn't make it any less amusing to see them adjusting to it. "Camping gear," he finally said in a decided voice, his accent coming through so terribly that Leo winced when he said the word 'camping'.

"I know a place," Leo said nodding thinking he had a better understanding of what Ezio wanted than what he knew how to properly express. Five years or not in a strange country with formal training on top of it Leo knew that it was never easy to learn a different language and there was no way you could know all the words a native speaker would.

That's what found them at a special boutique a bit later. It was a chic shop actually and full of teenagers who lived off their parents' money and rode around on mopeds. The clothing here was expensive but extremely good quality and made from old world fabrics from over a century ago. The fabric was rather corse sometimes but it seemed to be what Ezio had meant. The workers and patrons alike also stared at Ezio unlike the people in the department store. It was out of the corner of their eyes though and never obvious. He knew Ezio was aware of it but preferred to ignore it as he looked through the clothing. This time he seemed pleased by it.

Of course Ezio had little concept of cash, he even confessed as much but Leo told him not to worry about it. Antonio had told him very clearly that whatever Leo had to buy for them he'd pay back in full once he was in possession of Des' portrait. Leo couldn't even imagine having that much money to do that, sure he wasn't poor, and could afford sometimes insanely priced items, but to promise that, he couldn't image it. It still felt almost painful to hand over the cash to pay for the clothes though once Ezio had finished finding what he and his brothers' needed. He could have just bought a pet with how much the clothes cost for one of them and Leo didn't know how people could afford such a life style.

"Ezio," Leo said as they were heading back, Ezio was carrying the bags and didn't seem at all bothered by it even though they weren't exactly light. Ezio just hummed. "What are you going to do once you're home?"

Ezio got that thoughtful look on his face before grinning, "Eat."

"Excuse me?" Leo blinked at him.

"Traditional food," he explained still mirthful, "It was hard to adjust to the diet you people here eat when we first got here, lots of fat and sugar and grain. We got sick a lot. I'm looking forward to someone cooking me food I grew up on."

"Like what?"

"I couldn't even tell you, it's been a long time," Ezio frowned though didn't exactly look upset.

"Okay, well besides eating," he pressed as they stopped at Leo's car and he unlocked the doors and trunk, which Ezio threw the bags into.

Ezio didn't respond till he was sitting, "Finish my training," he said settling back. "I was on the fast track when I left, like my brothers, but now," he sighed, "So much ground to make up. Altair too."

"I thought he was a full warrior already," Leo prodded and pulled out into the early afternoon traffic.

"He is. But—

"But?" Leo prompted.

Ezio stared out the window at first, looking distant, then he turned back around. "For our class the greatest honor is to become a-" he searched for a word to substitute for one in his native tongue. "I don't even know what you would call it actually," he said thoughtfully.

"Explain it than, I'm sure I could come up with one," Leo said as they waited at a red light.

"Once someone is skilled enough, or has enough rank they're permitted to take… feathers," he saw Leo's confusion. "Erm- targets? We're given them and sent to other countries, one feather, one life."

"You kill them?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"They endanger us. We kill them so they do not come and attack us, cause panic and disorder. What do you call that?"

"I would call them terrorists," Leo said.

"You call movers terrorists," Ezio said, "Also that light is green," he nodded and Leo started, he hadn't been paying attention, before quickly stepping on the gas. "We seek to only preserve our way of life, which others, especially you people, seem very intent on destroying."

"Then perhaps a better word is hit man? They are contracted to kill people. Sometimes someone from another country is killed like that or rarely one of our own," he frowned.

"If it is this country than it is us," Ezio said and before Leo could ask he was moving on, "The other honor is to become a guard of the prophets. Only those who have taken a certain number of feathers and proven their skill can be one of them."

"What's so special about it? Wouldn't guard work be easy?"

"It's an honor," was all Ezio said, "Without the prophets much of our civilization would collapse. To be the guardians of them is something we all strive for."

"Even you?"

"Yes. Altair and… our brother were on their way to being 'hit men'. But then we were brought here."

"Can he still be one?"

"Of course. He has his wings, and after surviving so long in hostile territory and able to retain his skill, I wouldn't doubt he'd have trouble getting such rank."

Leo frowned but said nothing, instead mulling what Ezio had just said over in his head. It hadn't really occurred to him he supposed that when the Rifters returned home they'd go back to doing what Rifters did, or more, what the media portrayed Rifters doing, which was killing. The idea of Ezio killing someone made him uncomfortable, though he knew the young man had before, especially the night they'd brought Des home and he'd been covered in blood that wasn't his. For some reason he was fine with the idea that Altair killed people, he had the attitude for it, cold, stoic, almost like a machine at times, but not Ezio.

"What about Des?" Leo asked after that long silence, they were over half way back to Leo's place now.

"If he can, he'll finally get his training. I don't… really know what they'll do with him. His class requires so much trust, and he has so little of that," Ezio frowned. "It is yet to be determined," he finally said in a deciding voice.

"He won't have to kill anyone will he?"

"No, he doesn't have the training, it is practically to late to even start. He's to old for warrior training now even if he was in the class."

"That's good," Leo said before he could stop himself, "I can't picture Des doing such a thing."

"Can you picture me?" Leo glanced at him though also tried to keep his eyes on the road.

"I don't know how to answer that," he said truthfully, "I don't want to offend you."

Ezio didn't reply at first then he snorted with a little smirk, "You're smarter than you look," he told him and Leo didn't quite know what to make of that.

—

Leo was surprised at the speed in which finally, at last, the movers decided now would be the time to go. It had been less than a month since they'd first arrived at Leo's house and now Gilberto had told them the day before that they'd be arriving the next day. It was practically surreal. He was also surprised at how much it would hurt to say goodbye, though none of the Rifters had even seemed bothered by it. That made sense he supposed since they were all wanted to go home.

He'd been working when Francesco came and got him, saying Mr. Malik was here. He'd almost forgotten Malik since he had not seen the man in such a long time it seemed. He followed Francesco to the living room where Malik was sitting, his fingers steepled in front of him looking pensive.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Leo tried to be relaxed and cheerful as he sat opposite Malik at the coffee table where he always used to play Checkers with Salai. That had felt like a life time ago.

"Yeah, I've been busy, as you can guess," Malik said apologetically. "I just—" he rubbed his face. He in truth looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes his mouth worn and tired.

"Would you like some coffee?" Leo asked.

"Ah, sure," Malik said as if surprised Leo would offer him something, no doubt he thought Leo was still angry with him about lying. Leo however wasn't nearly that petty. He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen where he could hear people moving around in there.

"Salai?" he called as he got near and he heard an awkward squawk that was defiantly Salai followed by someone laughing. His brows furrowed as he entered the kitchen to see Salai with his head down on the counter, face buried in his hands and Des standing next to him laughing at him. "Uhm, what's going on in here?" he asked and Salai peered up at him from his hands his face practically the same shade as his hair. "Salai?" he rose his brows but the red head just shook his head. Well this was strange. "Is everything all right?"

"Just fine," Des said. "Did you want something?"

"Ah, yes," Leo said slowly still not knowing what to make of this. He had noticed the two young men seemed to get along well but sometimes stuff like this happened where Leo would some upon Salai totally unable to function. Leo had a very acute and probably correct guess that it had everything to do with the youngest Rifter too, he just didn't know why. "Malik is visiting."

"He is?" Des asked excitedly.

"Yes, but please Des," Leo held up a hand, "I want to speak with him alone," Des pouted but nodded. "Also he looks tired," and finally Salai looked up, having seeming regained control of all of his functions. "Coffee perhaps?" he asked the red head. Salai nodded.

'And you go away,' he waved at Des who just grinned. Leo still didn't know when or how Des had learned sign language since Leo had never taught him and there was no way Salai could have taught him properly in which he'd understand some of the thing's he'd seen Salai tell Des (often long complicated things) but still Des knew. He just chalked it up as another mystery of the Rifters and especially their so called prophets, that's all he could explain it with at any rate. Des did leave and Salai turned to Leo still looking a bit flustered but under control, 'I'll make coffee,' and then he turned away totally ignoring him.

Shaking his head he returned to Malik who was leaning back on one of the couches, "So," Leo said sitting, "You haven't slept since when?"

Malik smirked ruefully, "Three days… I think," he made a face, "I think. I lost track," he admitted, "So much to do," he sighed and sank into the couch.

"Will everything work out?" Leo asked unable to help but be a bit anxious.

"I hope," Malik said, "I will admit that a lot could go wrong. Getting out of the capital is no problem since they look like freeman, but the border," he shook his head, "I've never tried to get someone across the border."

"You said it could be done though," Leo said.

"Yeah," Malik bobbed his head wearily, "Night is worried about the border patrol though."

"Are you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Two trained warrior class Rifters, that's why," he said without even seeming sorry. "Altair was right when he said it is not us who should be afraid, but the patrol. If anything happens I know they can handle it."

"You seem oftly sure."

"You've seen them fight," Malik stated, "So have I. I trust them to do what needs to be done should the situation arises even if that includes killing."

"You seem very at ease with them killing our countrymen Malik," Leo frowned.

"Our countrymen have killed plenty of them, I see nothing wrong with being allowed to defend one's self. Besides, we both know why they're here, our _countrymen_ killed their entire family and kidnapped them and made them slaves for five years."

"When you put it like that…" Leo had to admit he found it hard to argue despite his dislike of violence. Before he said more Salai came in with a mug.

"Ah, thank you Salai," Malik said when the red head handed it over, "It's black right?"

"And very strong," Leo translated for for Salai's signs since Malik didn't understand signing any more than he did the Rifter's language. Salai left after Leo assured him he didn't want any. "So why are you here Malik?" he asked.

"Well," he took an awkward sip, "I wanted to say goodbye."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know what will happen and I won't be able to tomorrow because of anonymity."

"You're not actually thinking you could die? Please don't tell me you're really thinking that!"

"It is always a possibility in my line of work," Malik said, "Or I could get captured."

"But… when you say goodbye I get worried," Leo frowned. Malik didn't reply, he just drank more coffee. "You have that look," he continued, "You're not telling me something," he accused.

"I don't know what look you're referring to," Malik said curiously over the lip of his mug.

"That one you get when you're lying to me," Leo snapped, "And obviously lying like when you tried to tell me you hate children. Tell me," he implored.

Malik didn't speak at first, he was obviously thinking of his reply and if he could avoid the truth. "I'm thinking of asking if I can stay with them instead of coming back here," he said putting the half empty mug on the coffee table. The silence in the room was practically numbing as Leo stared at him, shock plain as day on his face.

"What? Why?" he finally said.

Malik sucked in his lips, "I… have a brother Leo."

"You told me, you said he died."

"I know, but he isn't dead."

"Well what does this have to do with the Rift?"

Malik couldn't look at him when he spoke but he didn't doubt the truth in his words either, "My parents were going to make him a pet. I knew people, they took him to the Rift."

"Than he probably _is_ dead Malik-

"Altair told me he's alive," Malik cut in, the words practically leaping off his tongue. "And if he is… well, he's the only family I have."

"So you'd give up your entire life to see someone who probably doesn't remember you? Who got raised by Rifters and to him you'd be '_one of them'_," that got a wince from him, "That's so stupid!"

Malik was looking at his shoes, "Look, I don't even know if I will or not," he sighed, "I haven't asked them yet."

"And why would they take you along?" Leo was being harsh because he didn't want to lose Malik. It was bad enough that he'd never see Ezio and his brothers again, but Malik as well? That was too much to ask for and for him to not try and fight it.

"I have my belief," Malik said.

"What about me then? Just going leave me all alone? I'll become a recluse without you around."

Malik grinned smugly, "I doubt it," he said. "But that's why I came here; to say goodbye, for whatever may or may not happen," he pushed off his knees and stood so that Leo quickly scrambled to his feet. "I need to get home and finish preparing myself and get some sleep," he said. Leo was just frowning. "I'll see you tomorrow though Leo," he said and abruptly hugged him tightly. Leo hugged him back and Malik left. Leo didn't know what to do with himself once he was gone.

—

The sky was strangely poignant when Malik and the others arrived at Leo's house the next day. It was still fairly early in the morning though the sky promised to be heavy with thick, low hanging, clouds and a watery sun. They had one car, a van, something that was easy to lose in any sort of traffic and didn't draw attention to itself by being too big. There were a few small packs in the back as well as some other, empty, bags that would hold rations. It would only take two days or so to reach the closest they could get to the border by car, the rest of the way they'd have to walk. It would take a week to actually reach the Rift which was the most obvious dividing line between the two countries.

Parker waited in the van, he was the first on on driving duty, while Malik and the others went to collect their 'cargo', as they were called by movers. He knew the other three personally, even their real names but he tried not to think of them while on the job. For the next week they were Night, Parker, and Pseudonym and he was King. He couldn't remember what Altair and Ezio were calling themselves though, but they were strange tangled words that sounded more than a little off to his ears. That didn't matter to much though.

Night knocked on the front door and glanced down the street. The place was quiet though and except for someone headed off to work no one was about. The door was answered by Salai who stared at them with wide eyes, he obviously wasn't expecting them but then Leo appeared behind him. "Hello," he said and gently shooed Salai away before welcoming them in. The brothers were sitting on one of the couches, Des between the other two.

"Who's the runt?" Night asked and then took a wary step back when both Altair and Ezio growled at him. If he hadn't expected such a reaction himself he would have been freaked out as well. But he knew the brothers and knew they didn't take well to _anyone_ talking bad about their little brother, so instead of afraid Malik just looked amused.

"Our brother, you can call him Divinus," Altair said standing and not for the first time Malik appreciated just how tall he was. Night definitely appreciated it since he swallowed and looked nervous. Pseudonym was equally taken aback, especially when Ezio stood up and was just as tall as his brother with only Des being a seemingly approachable height since he was shorter. He was also looking right at Malik now after he'd obviously taken in the other two, but like always Des seemed keenly interested in Malik and no one could really figure out why that was exactly. "Problem?" he asked stepping over to them.

"You're really tall," Night couldn't help but say. Malik admitted he'd wanted to say that the first time he'd seen the brothers at full proper height, especially next to each other since he'd thought that Ezio would be the only tall one. It was hard not to think that too since Malik was pretty tall for a normal person in this country, the fact that Altair and Ezio were taller than him was a bit of a shock. Altair and Ezio laughed at him and Night flushed, especially when Altair said something to Ezio making them laugh again. "Anyways, are you ready?" he asked changing topics.

"Yes," Altair nodded.

"You don't have any stuff," Pseudonym noted.

"All we need are the clothes on our backs, we have nothing else," he said as though he had to remind them.

"Fine, it doesn't really matter so long as you're prepared," Night butted in.

"Oh, we are. I hope you are as well." Malik could already see the friction starting to build between Night and the Rifter. He had a very educated guess that Night would be the one to snap first since Altair wasn't an explosive guy and really he'd only seen Altair angry that time he'd met Shaun. Of course you had to ignore his normal characterization of dislike for just about everything as well, but other than that he wasn't exactly angry ever.

"Good, lets go than," Night said through narrowed eyes and turned around to stalk back to the van. Father, this would probably not end well, Malik could already tell.

Altair muttered under his breath and looked away from them to say something to his brothers. The words made Pseudonym uneasy, that much was obvious, since nothing about them exactly sounded pleasant and even the names Altair, Ezio and Des had for themselves were strange and while not exactly cumbersome weren't exactly easy on the ears. She and Malik just watched as the Rifters said goodbye and while he was surprised to see Ezio hug Leo he was even more surprised to see Des hug him since he knew that he didn't allow others to even really get near him except his brothers. Altair, predictably, only offered words as his goodbye.

"Is that it?" Pseudonym asked. Leo looked extremely upset about the whole thing but was putting on a brave face which was good since he knew his friend could be so emotional at times.

"Yes," Altair said his voice hollow and Malik wondered if he could actually be feeling bad that he was saying goodbye.

"Okay then, lets get going before it gets to late in the day," she said as Des walked out of the house, "we have a long way to go," she reached out to touch his shoulder to lead him but he batted it away quickly and sidestepped around her, looking at her in a way that said 'you really just did that?' Obviously she didn't know what she'd done wrong so just looked hurt.

"Come on," Malik said giving Pseudonym a light shove making her look away from Des and get moving. She nodded and went to the car pulling open the door for the Rifters that followed.

"Malik," Leo said before he could leave, Malik turned where he stood, his brows raised questioningly. "Don't do anything stupid."

He gave a little snort out through his nose and smiled slightly, "This is me we're talking about," he reminded him.

"I know," Leo said frowning, "And I won't lie and say I hope you get what you want. I hope you come back," he folded his arms loosely over his chest still looking sad. Malik just ducked his head and left quickly, no longer able to meet his gaze.

* * *

><p>Hohoho, what is this? Malik? Malik! Hurray Malik. Leo isn't coming after all so who else could there be? We finally get to see this whole thing and his relationship with Altair from his POV. This was really the best choice as far as who to tell the story from because Ezio would be more of the same as Altair, and I've written Altair into the ground. With Malik we're also seeing this from a totally different perspective, which I've tried to do for each character.<p>

Leo was a bit of a worrier and more like a parent figure who looked after everyone. He is also innocence as he doesn't really understand the world he lives in and while he wants to change it he doesn't really know how to despite his best efforts. Altair is the warrior and someone who gets things done. He thinks to much and doesn't let anything come between him and what he wants, even something he might not like, agree with, or personally believe in. Now we have Malik, innocent like Leo but not quite with more of Altair's qualities than he'd like to admit. He's also from a totally different world than the other two, a former pet and now a mover he's seen the true underbelly of the country he lives in. He's a rebel and a fighter though not how Altair is since he isn't some emotionless block of rock.

So we've seen this world from three perspectives: the Sheep, the Assassin and the Mover. We're actually still missing one too, I wonder if you guys will figure it out before I get to it.


	15. Killers

For seemingly the up-tenth time Malik looked behind him and into the far back seat. The three Rifters were sleeping in the back though only the youngest actually looked at all peaceful as he leaned against Ezio who had his head against the window. In the middle seat Parker and Pseudonym were also sleeping leaving just him and Night awake. Night was driving and Malik was his extra set of eyes.

"They're all still sleeping King," Night growled, "and they were still sleeping when you looked five minutes ago."

"I know," Malik huffed and sat back down strait in the passenger seat. It was well past midnight by now and nothing friendly was awake. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Hey, I don't really care. Volpe is paying us, actually paying us. So I don't care who or what they are, but you," he fixed Malik with a look, "are supposed to be looking out there," he waved a finger to the darkness, "and keeping me awake."

"Yeah, sorry," he said again, settling into the seat. "Just... Rifters Night, real Rifters, and they didn't try and kill us."

"Fuck I know right," Night said and rubbed his nose making the ring on it flare. "When Volpe told us it was Rifters I wont lie; I nearly shit myself," Malik snickered. "Then he told me how much he'd pay me, _pay me_, to get a team together and get them out of the country. Nearly shit myself _again_," Malik had to hold back his laughter. "And even at a twenty, forty split you three are making serious cash," he rubbed his fingers together. "Whoever Volpe has in his pocket with that kinda loot. Fuck I'd gladly kiss his shoes."

"Volpe always comes up with interesting things doesn't he?"

"Isn't that an understatement," Night snorted. "Also, you hear the news about the guy we took 'em from?"

"Who? He never gave his name," Malik swallowed.

Night blew a raspberry and Malik watched the speedometer creep up to a dangerous speed. "I'm not some dumb ass. That was Leonardo Vinci. Apparently that big wig Antonio's been talking up a storm about him. Says he found another genius," he said.

"Really? How do you know that?" it was an odd thing for a mover to know. Usually they were more worried about keeping their ear to the pulse of the slave trade and listening to diplomatic relations and the kennel bureau.

"My girl is into art, I saw it in one of her mags," Night shrugged.

"I see. Hey, slow it down Night, you're going real fast and I don't want to get pulled over with three Rifters in the back seat."

"Heh, sorry, got carried away," Night smirked and let off the gas pedal so they cruised down to a more manageable speed. "So what'ou think of our cargo?"

"The Rifters?" And Night nodded. "I dunno, kinda scary I guess. You see how tall they were?" Malik didn't have to fake bewilderment since he honestly was sort of bewildered by how tall Ezio and Altair were.

"Yeah, they look scary as hell too. All jaw and cheeks and eyes like hell. Bet they could break one of us in half without flinching," Night rambled. "I mean you know the stories. How easy do you think it would be for them to just murder us all and go on their way? I almost feel like Volpe didn't pay me enough for this bull shit."

"If they did they would have killed that man who bought them don't you think?" Malik asked. Part of him was annoyed with Night for thinking like that. Rifters weren't monsters, they were just people. Sure tall people who had training that let them kill you with one finger but still just people.

"I guess. Still gives me the creeps," Night shivered. "That's the two scary ones, Sicarius and Aquila though, what about the little one? Fuck what's his name...?"

"Divinus," Malik supplied.

"Yeah that one. What's his deal? He got all freaked out back when we stopped for dinner because Parker touched him."

"I dunno," Malik sighed though he knew very well. Des was wearing sleeves now but back at Leo's he's gone around in short sleeves and you could see the cut marks on his newly tanned arms clearly like they'd been drawn there with chalk. Just dozens and dozens of them like someone had been bored one day and decided to cut him up and turn his skin into mince meat. That didn't even cover where from his wrist to his elbow bad been all carved up. Altair had told him that was where his tattoo had been and the Borgia had cut it out. Malik had almost been ill hearing that. "Seems like some sort of trauma," and he looked back to the far back seat. He swallowed when he saw he and Night weren't the only ones awake. Altair was awake as well and seemed to be staring at him. He moved a bit and realized Altair wasn't, he was staring out the wind shield. Malik turned back around and tried to see what Altair saw but could see nothing.

"Stop the car," Altair's voice came from the back like a bullet and Night jumped clear out of his chair with a loud curse and slammed on the breaks. Everyone jolted awake.

"Morning already?" Parker moaned from the middle seat.

"No, the Rifter just scared the piss out of me," Night snarled and looked back at him.

Altair however was ignoring Night, "Aquila," he said unstrapping himself from the seat and they spoke in Rifter tongue. After a few seconds Ezio nodded and undid his own belt.

"Hey, where are you going?" Pseudonym demanded and they opened the sliding door letting in hot autumn air.

"Turn the car off," Altair said head turning as he looked all around.

"What?" Night was still confused.

"I said turn off the car you stupid Sheep," Altair spat, "We aren't alone here," and Malik reached over and turned the car off to Night's protest. The engine died and the lights went out leaving them in dark silence except for Ezio and Altair walking carefully around the car with deliberate slowness. As one of them passed in front of the wind shield he could see in the moonlight that they held a knife, a big one with one side having a serrated edge. He swallowed.

"What the he'll is going on?" Parker hissed, obviously afraid of being to loud.

"Sheepdogs," Des said from the back. They all turned and looked at him. "They know my brothers killed someone important, they just don't know who," he was looking out the window, his face pressed right up against it. Then they heard him speak, like he was counting, only it was in his tongue and not their own.

"Hey, Divinus," Night said drawing Des' attention. "What's a sheepdog?"

"Something that wants us all dead," he said seriously and you could have heard a pin drop in the car, "there are only three of them though, we'll be fine," and he smiled a soft reassuring smile."

"How do you know that?"

"My brothers wouldn't let three stupid sheepdogs get their way," be said, "they want to go home to-" he was cut off by a scream. Abruptly it was cut short and they heard a gunshot. They all ducked to avoided getting hit by a wayward shot but they heard no more. The silence was deafening and everyone seemed to be holding their breaths but there were no more screams, or gunshots or any noise at all and Malik felt the hair on his arms and back of his neck stand on end.

Pseudonym couldn't hold back a scream when the sliding door suddenly opened. "Shut up," Altair snapped as he and Ezio climbed inside. She quickly covered her mouth. "They're gone," he said climbing over Des to sit by the window.

"Who's gone? What the hell just happened?" Parker demanded.

"Does it matter?" Ezio asked harshly, "My brother and I just saved your sorry skin," he pulled out a rag from somewhere and abruptly wiped his knife across it. The rag became bloodied and Pseudonym turned green before looking away.

"What did you two just do?" Night turned in his seat, demandingly.

"What do you think we just did?" Altair growled, "We did exactly what you people think we do. We just killed three people who would have happily murdered us, now shut up and drive before more show up when they start wondering where these three went," and his eyes burned. Next to him Night swallowed and turned back around, turning on the car. He yelped when the headlights came on and illuminated a dead body in the middle of the road.

"Holy fuck!" he yelled and flailed for a few seconds as if he wanted to jump out of his seat.

"King, tell him to drive before I make him," Altair snarled. Malik didn't have to say anything though because that was enough of a threat. The car suddenly lurched forward and they drove around the dead guy.

"I'm not getting paid enough for this," Malik heard Night mutter and he had to admit the blonde might be right.

—

Malik had never been to the desert that housed the Rift and beyond. He knew it was hot but he wasn't at all prepared for how hot it really was. It was like standing next to an oven, only the heat of that oven was coming from every direction and Malik felt like he was dying, like he was literally being cooked alive from the inside. It wasn't a nice feeling and he was grateful to realize the others felt the same. Well his fellow Sheep anyways as the Rifters were perfectly adapted for the harsh conditions. They also truly had the proper gear, thin yet durable material that allowed air to pass through, a hood, and thick soled boots to help keep their feet from burning. The only thing that seemed foolish was the length, the sleeves and pants were both long and if Malik was sweating he could only imagine they were. Or he hoped so at least.

They'd left the car a two days back and were now walking towards the first barrier, a fence that's stretched the entire border. It wasn't the easiest thing to breach but it could be done in a few hours you just had to be careful not to be caught, and if there was on thing movers were good at was not getting caught. The fence was about a three day walk and then the Rift itself was about another three days or so. After that... they didn't really know. Those who went beyond the Rift were pretty much never seen again, or if they were it was found dead in the sand with their throats cut. Thinking about it made Malik raise his hand up to his throat as he walked.

He looked up and narrowed his eyes when Des suddenly ran past him yelling something. How he could run in this heat was beyond him but apparently they hadn't even really reached the desert, just the plains that's led up to the Rift. He followed Des' line as he pointed to something high in the sky. Malik squinted at it and realized it was a bird. Just a dumb bird and Des was acting like it was the most amazing thing in the world.

"Harpy Eagle," Altair suddenly said appearing next to him.

Malik jumped, "Holy fucking Father don't you ever make noise?" he demanded angrily.

"Not unless I want to," Altair shrugged.

Malik grumbled to himself before asking, "What's a Harpy eagle?"

"A bird native to our lands. Its a good omen since that's where we get our feathers from," Malik swallowed when he said that.

"Good omens?"

"Yep."

"At least that's something," Malik sighed.

"Good for our people at least," Altair said, "I can only imagine they'd look like death omens for your people.

"Well isn't that a pleasent thought," Malik said sarcastically before he sighed and looked ahead. Des was way ahead of them, his white hood standing out amid the gray brown of the landscape. He didn't even look tired despite the pack he carried which had his rations. "How can he... well all of you," now he really looked at Altair and though the man was sweating it was nowhere near as much as Malik was, "be so energetic in this oppressive heat?"

"Oppressive?" Altair rose a brow at him, "This is the start of our cool season. One of storms and rain. This is wonderful weather," Altair smirked. "We are also built for it, you people are not."

"I suppose," Malik huffed.

"Hey everyone," Night called, "we're stopping for a few minutes," and Malik gratefully stopped and took off his pack, letting it thump to the ground and following it a few seconds later. He pulled a canteen out from his pack and took a sip, but not to much. Above him Altair was yelling in Des' direction to get his attention and when Malik looked the teen was jogging back over to them, his steps deceptively light and he didn't kick up even a bit of dirt. He still wasn't sure how Rifters seemed to float over the surface of the earth, but they did and it was amazing.

As Des came towards them Altair left and Malik took another sip of his canteen. The water was tepid and disgustingly warm, feeling hotter than his own internal temperature, but it was clean, pure water which he kept sweating out. As he drank another shadow passed over him and he looked up, squinting against the sky which was unreal it was so blue and made his eyes hurt. It was Night.

"You were talking with that Rifter," he said crouching.

"Yeah, and?"

"What did he say?" he asked looking at the brothers as Ezio shed his gear bag and rotated his arms at the shoulders. They weren't to far away but they couldn't hear them either since the wind was blowing their voices away.

"That bird," Malik pointed up, eyes straining against the light, "Harpy eagle, said it was a good omen," he shrugged.

"What else he say?"

"Nothing," Malik took another swig before putting away his canteen and wiping his brow.

"Really? Nothing?" Night didn't believe him.

"Yeah, nothing," Malik glared at him, "Now drop it," he growled. After a few seconds Night stepped away going back to his own pack to drink.

Roughly ten minutes later they were underway again, Des out in front by a good ways, his head tipped up and making his hood fall down around his shoulders, and the two warriors lagging behind by about fifty feet. Malik pulled his hat down low to help cover his face from the sun but found the brim seemed almost to small. He held back an annoyed groan and didn't complain.

At one point they stopped to get their bearings, though the Rifters jut seemed annoyed to be stopping, as if they knew automatically where to go, like some weird homing beacon. Malik found it annoying since they could at least pretend they needed their help. Not like that would _ever_ happen. The two that would talk to them were to proud to say they needed help from _Sheep_ and the third didn't even talk to them anyways. Well he talked to Malik, though barely. By the end of the day they could see the fence and it was anything but a fence.

"Fuck," Night groaned when he saw it. Truth be told none of them had actually been to the Rift, they knew how to get there but not what the real boundaries looked like and the 'fence' was more like an impassable wall of barbed wire and solid bars that stopped people from getting across.

"I hope you brought wire cutters," Altair said resting his weight on one leg comfortably as he appraised the fence with his calculating amber eyes which were hidden under the shadow of his white hood.

"Of course we did," Night snapped.

"C'mon Night, it's to hot to be angry right now," Parker complained. Night grumbled under his breath. "We probably won't make it through before dark so we should set up here, get as far as we can in what light there is and finish cutting in the morning."

"What about the bars?" Pseudonym asked anxiously.

"We'll worry about that once he clear a bath through the barb wire," Parker said and dropped his pack. They followed suit and Malik drank some water enjoying how it felt, easing his parched throat.

"Lets rest for a bit-

"No," Altair cut off Pseudonym. "We need all the light we can get," he said, "It is cool at night and we can rest then."

"I don't remember when you became in charge Rifter," Night growled.

Altair looked at him and moved so he was right on top of the blonde, "This is my world little Sheep, remember to whom you speak," he spoke in a quiet threatening tone and Malik saw Night swallow. Then Altair backed away, "The wall isn't a wall, it's a maze. They make it so that we can't get through, so it takes time and they can find us before we get into your country," Altair said. "The bars are greased and they are buried a foot into the earth."

"Great," Parker sighed, "So how do we get by?"

"We find the path of least resistance, cut through what we have to and dug under," Altair explained, "Divinus," he called and Des who had drifted off somewhere looking at something they couldn't see came back around. "You have the best eyes, find us a quick path."

Des frowned at his brother and said something sadly. He saw Ezio out of the corner of his eye become stiff as he spoke. Altair put his hands on his brother's shoulders and spoke to him till finally Des nodded. The teen pulled something out of his pocket, it looked like a small pad of paper and a pen before turning and looking at the fence. Malik wasn't the only curious one who came around to see what he was going to do. Des kept his head down for several seconds before looking up. Malik almost fell over his own feet as he stepped backwards. He was used to seeing the Rifters' eyes turn gold, but this was positively frightening. Des' eyes had turned _white_, with a massive pupil in the very center that didn't move, didn't even twitch.

Altair put his hands back on his shoulders when he started to sway and with a jolt Malik realized what was happening. Des was _seeing_. Rapidly Malik went through what Altair had told him about prophets and their sight. It was a powerful tool and could let them see the future and the past and things that weren't exactly what they appeared to be. But usually they needed a medium, the Animus Altair had called it, and without it it could cause permanent emotional, psychological and neural damage to the prophet that caused pain and sometimes, in extreme cases, resulted in death. Suddenly Malik felt cold despite the blistering heat as he watched Des who looked like he was writing something, or drawing, maybe, Malik wasn't sure.

It only lasted about two minutes before with a cry that sounded very pained Des slid back into reality with force and Altair hadn't been holding him would probably have fallen. Altair spoke in gentle and calm tones as he lowered his brother to the ground, brushing away sweat and Malik was sure he heard small sobs coming from the younger man. "Here," Altair snatched the pad and threw it at Malik, "A map," Malik fumbled over the pad before looking at what was on it. It indeed was a map, a maze actually and it looked impeccably drawn with perfectly strait lines.

"What's the distance ratio?" he asked.

Ezio came up behind him and plucked the pad from Malik's hand. "Looks like a standard one to three," he said.

"One to three what?" Parker asked.

"Uh… crap," he muttered. After a few seconds Ezio called to Altair who was still comforting their brother. Altair snapped the words back, sounding annoyed. "Centimeter to three meters," he said.

"You kidding?" Night snatched the pad. "Shit this will take a while," he said counting up the centimeters. "Parker, gimmie a pen, a red one," he ordered and Parker handed it over. First Night traced a path with the pen closed till he had found a shot from the fence to the open ground they were on and then drew it in with the pen. "Okay, so then we're ganna cut through these parts," he said. "Where's the origin?"

"Right in front of where Divinus was standing," Ezio said his voice sounding dry. Malik doubted it had anything to do with the heat or the weather though.

"Lets get this started then," Night announced and opened his pack pulling out a pair of heavy gloves as well wire clippers. Malik and Parker did likewise and Night quickly instructed them where to start cutting.

By the time night fell Malik's clothes were soaked with sweat and they'd cut a path through to the barbed fence maze. That was all they could do however because they were losing sunlight and the wind was starting to pick up making it hard to see as dirt and sand stung their eyes. They wove back through the barbed wire they'd cut, now very grateful for Des' map or it would have taken twice as long and they would have been shredded. Back with the others Des was sleeping under an extra blanket, mumbling under his breath, and Altair and Ezio were sitting on one side of the lamp that offered them light in the darkness though little else. Pseudonym was going through their packs like she was looking for something.

She looked up when they came close some of her blonde hair falling out of its practical bun when she did so and falling across her face. She quickly pushed it away. "So?" she asked.

"We cut through to the fence," Night groaned and sat, peeling off his gloves and falling down onto his back. Parker and Malik followed suit, glad to no longer be working.

They lay there for a while, just relaxing after that work and Pseudonym shoved water into their hands and practically down their throats as well as some rations which were dry and disgusting but Malik ate anyways because he was starving.

"How the hell do you people survive out here?" Parker groaned at the Rifters now sitting up. "We haven't even reached the Rift and no tees, no water, nothing!"

The brothers stared at him for several seconds like hawks before one spoke, "You'll catch a chill in those wet clothes in this weather. Take them off so they'll dry," Ezio said.

"What?" Parker blinked. "You kidding it's warm out."

"It will be cooler tonight," Ezio insisted, "and if we're unlucky there will be a storm tomorrow."

"Yeah, right, a storm, in this fucking hell hole," Night said sarcastically.

"You can chose not to believe us if you want, but Divinus told us," Altair said seriously. "If he says it will be cooler tonight it will be cool and you are all soaked through. Let your clothes dry and take a blanket. You may also want to pray to your… _Father_," it was obviously a slur the way he said it, "that there is no storm. For you have never seen a storm the likes of which the Rift can produce."

Malik believed him and quickly took off his shirt. "King you can't honestly believe him can you?" Night demanded.

"He's been right so far, can't think why he isn't now," Malik said weighting his clothes down with some rocks so they wouldn't blow away. "Is Divinus okay?" he asked once he'd wrapped his own blanket around his shoulders and Parker and Night were grudgingly following his example.

"He will be," Altair said looking over at his little brother. "He just needs to rest."

"What the hell was that anyways?" Parker asked. The Rifters didn't answer, "Well?" they still didn't answer, "What you'll answer King but not me?"

"King can be trusted, you three have yet to prove yourselves," Ezio said and the other movers looked at Malik, Night squinting at him with almost dislike.

"And how is that? You've just met us!" Night demanded.

"We have our ways," Altair hissed. "To us you're all just liabilities anyway."

"You'd rather we be gone huh?" Night sneered.

"I'd rather you be dead," and that made Night stiffen. Ezio smacked his brother on the shoulder. "You're all a bunch of useless Sheep anyways. Stupid and weak and _gray, _slowing us down_,_" and he stood, "I hope you burn in hell," he walked out into the night and Malik swallowed uncomfortably.


	16. Storms

Two chapters because I feel like it.

* * *

><p>The next morning was blissfully warm. Malik never thought he'd be glad for the heat of the sun, but after last night he was. It had been cold, not unbearably so, but he'd wished he'd had another blanket. He woke with the sun in his eyes as it rose over the horizon and the sky and clouds were stained a blood red. He wasn't surprised to see Ezio and Altair already up, stretching and passing a few inhumanly fast blows back and forth almost playfully. As he sat up he looked around the small camp tiredly, he was so tired of sleeping on the hard ground now, and saw the others will still asleep with Parker and Pseudonym huddled together to warmth. Night was sleeping with his back to the sun and Des was just gone. He looked around quickly suddenly fully awake but didn't see the teen anywhere. He reminded himself that if Des had really vanished than his brothers would have been more agitated and would have woken everyone up in a bit of a panic. But they weren't, they were calm and serene and Malik's worry dropped to nothing.<p>

He yawned and stood up, the blankets fell away… blankets? He'd only fallen asleep with one where had this other one come from? He shook his head in annoyance and put on his clothes which were stiff with dried sweat and sand before standing and squinting against the sun and sand.

Urgently nature called and he walked off a ways to relieve himself his eyes straying to the fence. With a start he saw someone on the other side, picking their way through the maze of barbed wire. As he zipped up his pants he realized it was Des. How had he gotten over there? The fence was almost thirty feet strait up and the bars had been greased, Malik had touched them the day before, they were practically too slick to climb. He looked back at the Rifters who were standing in the red sun, casting long shadows back over the small camp and knew they had everything to do with it.

As he returned to the others his fellow movers began to wake, Pseudonym being especially pissed Parker had cuddled up to her in his sleep. They had a light breakfast and everyone was ready for the next step by the time the sky had become blue instead of red. Altair and Ezio talked, sounding like they were planning, as they tore through their own rations without hesitation.

"Okay," Night finally said as they cleaned up, "Now what?" he looked expectantly. He seemed much more wary of Altair now than before, with good reason obviously after his statement the night before.

"We get past the fence," Altair said dusting off his hands, "And get as far as we can before the storm."

"What storm?" Parker asked looking around but all he saw were puffy white cumulous clouds.

"Red sky in the morning travelers take warning," Altair said, "Nothing is more true than out in the desert. Low pressure is coming in from the west," he pointed, "Pray it isn't a true sand storm and is just a wind storm, or rain."

"Rain would almost be as bad Sicarius," Ezio chimed in, "We could get flooded. At the least you can bunked down in a sand storm," he frowned.

"It doesn't matter what it is, but there _is_ a storm headed our way," he said. "Wind is coming this way and lets hope we don't get caught in it."

"You seem oftly worked up over some storm," Night said watching both Rifters. "We have storms where we live, it isn't that big a deal."

"Have you ever _seen_ a sand storm Sheep?" Altair asked with just a hint of hate, "Winds so strong that each bit of sand feels like it's a bullet. Men far better prepared than you have gone mad, blind, or been killed in such storms. You best respect the desert, or it will gladly destroy you." Night swallowed, "Divnius is scouting ahead for us. He's finding a path through the other side of the wall."

"Couldn't he just do what he did yesterday?" Night asked.

That was really the wrong question and Malik closed his eyes when both Rifters glared at Night like they wanted to skin him alive. "No," was all Altair growled out and everyone knew asking that had been a mistake on Night's part. "Lets go," he grabbed his bag and threw it over one shoulder before heading for the fence and the path they'd but through to it yesterday.

Getting to the fence was easier with wire they'd cut but there was still the barred fence. "So we dig?" Parker asked when they arrived at it.

"Yes," Ezio said, "But first," and he hurled his bag so it cleared the top of the fence and crashed down onto the barbed wire on the other side. "We send the bags over first," he held his hands out for them as Altair did the same for his own.

"What about those?" Pseudonym asked when Altair left two bags on their side of the fence.

"For you when you get back," he said.

"What's that mean?"

"Less work for you all. You won't be able to get them over the fence yourselves and you won't have to carry so many over on that side," he pointed. "When you come back just leave what you have-

"We can't do that," Night shot in.

"Why not?"

"Supplies-

"Those are your supplies," Altair pointed to the bag, "and your marker so you know where to come through the fence. The less you carry on that side of the fence the better. Learn to pack light," he said seriously. "Now we need to dig," he nodded at Ezio who seemed to be rubbing the bars. "Aquila and I will start on the other side and you four start on this side," he said and Malik watched with more than a little amazement as Ezio started to climb the bars.

"How is he doing that?" Parker asked also watching and sounding impressed.

"Sand and dirt on the oil, they soak it in, make the bars dry. We'll see you on the other side," and he followed Ezio up. Malik stared a bit opened mouth as they climbed and then from the top simply fell. For once they seemed to impact the earth and when Ezio dropped a plumb of dirt shot up and he rolled into the fall. Altair followed a few seconds later, only he did not roll.

"Okay, that was cool," Night said.

"Dig," Altair and Ezio dropped to their knees and dug their hands into the sand. Malik and the others quickly followed suit. By the time it was perhaps ten O'clock they had dug a hole large enough for them to slip through. Pseudonym went through first, she was the smallest and Ezio helped pull her through though it was tight for her so they dug deeper since him, Parker and Night were not exactly small like Pseudonym was.

At some point Des had come back to the fence, watching with curiosity till the three movers had crawled through the fence. The wind had picked up since they'd started and was kicking up a little sand that swirled around their ankles and tried to get up against their skin.

"So now what?" Parker asked looking out to the scape of barbed wire.

"Divinus?" Altair asked clapping his hand onto the teen's shoulder, "Did you find us a way?" Des just nodded and padded away leading the others. Altair and Ezio grabbed up their bags before following him, Malik and the others scrambling after them till Des indeed had led them out of the wire field.

Beyond the wire field it was more of the same, endless sand and dirt that stretched on in every direction, and still the wind blew. They all knew which direction to take too, for there was only one; strait.

—

The sun was setting when the storm finally hit with a fury. They'd seen it coming from a distance and Malik felt himself ill prepared. This wasn't a storm from his country, this was a sand storm and it howled and moaned and made them all uneasy as it surged towards them. The Rifters were prepared for it though. They tied off the ends of their clothes and wrapped the red sashes they'd worn around their waists around their faces to protect them and they also had goggles to protect their eyes from the sand which was starting to whip itself into a fevered pitch.

There was no cover for them to take shelter behind but it seemed as always that the elder brothers knew what to do. They were survivalists and that was what they were doing. They cut up one of the blankets and made scarves for the movers wrapping it so tightly around Malik's head that all there was was a slit for Malik to see out of. The rest of the blankets became alternative sleeves and they instructed them to tie off the end of their pant legs so that sand wouldn't get in.

"So this was why you said you hoped we were prepared," Malik said to Altair as he helped tie a blanket around his arm. "Why the blankets?"

"The winds blow so hard that the sand can rend skin and flesh from bones sometimes."

"Oh, lovely," Malik swallowed, wincing as Altair tied off the binding tightly.

"It is to early in the season for such a storm. But the sand can still be painful," he said and went to work on the other arm.

"So we'll survive this?" he asked looking towards the column of sand and wind rushing towards them.

"Yes," Altair said. "Aquila, are you done?" he called to Ezio who had been helping Parker.

"Yes," he said.

"Good," Altair stood, "The storm is still a ways away, he should keep going until we can't anymore. When the storm hits drop, immediately or you could be blown away. Remove your pack, it will act like a sail on top of you, and put it against the wind. It will act like a buffer. I suggest putting it near your head," Altair said in an official tone as though he was used to giving such instructions.

"How long do these storms last?" Pseudonym asked adjusting her back pack.

"It can takes hours or days for a sand storm to blow itself out-

"But at this speed it should only be over us for an hour or so perhaps," Ezio cut in.

"Do not try to move during the storm once you're down," Altair called as they walked, his voice dampened by his muffler and by the wind that snatched his words away. "The wind can get under you and in some cases pick you up."

"This sounds wonderful," Night said sarcastically from his own wrapped up head.

"This is why you must respect the desert Night, for if you don't it will eat you," and they all knew what he meant.

It was surprising at the speed in which the storm did hit and as soon as Malik saw the Rifters drop he did as well, yanking off his pack and putting it into the wind by his head. Around him the wind howled like wolves, only worse, and it became dark as the sand blocked out the sun. He pressed his back into the wind and slammed his eyes shut so sand couldn't get in.

The wind streamed over his body and he felt sand gathering up behind his back. Above the storm raged and it didn't sound so much like wolves now as it sounded like a monstrous creature that was bearing down upon them. He opened his eyes but could see nothing, no figures, so sun, no horizon, just an endless storm of sand that washed over everything in its path.

There was no time within a sand storm and Malik didn't know if it had been a few seconds, a few minutes or a few hours since it had come upon them. The only way he knew up from down was because he was lying on the ground but even then he was confused and disoriented. There was no sound save for the howling of the wind and the screaming of sand and nothing to see save for the drab golden-gray of the flying sand. It was like hell, maybe, or purgatory, where one was sent adrift and there was nothing until all your sins were gone. That was what the Rifters believed at least, he knew because Altair had told him and because he'd wanted to see what it was people like him believed in, what he knew his brother believed in. It was hard to find text on such an old religion, at least text that wasn't filled with lies and fairy tales, but he'd found it.

He didn't know if they were true stories, though he knew the Rifters believed them, and now he couldn't help but believe a little himself. It was hard not too when so many stories spoke of their land, this vast desert beyond the Rift, as if it were alive. Something that could destroy so easily as if it were nothing yet was a paradise for those who followed the word of God. They did not want for what they already had, food was given to them and there were not famines or wars or cruelty of men. That all seemed to belong on the other side of the fence where people bought and sold other people like cattle, like animals and treated them just as poorly. There wasn't any such thing like that for the Rifters, instead they had to rely on each other and each man had to find their own place in their world under God or else the desert would consume them for their greed or their maliciousness.

So if that was true (and he wasn't entirely sure it was) then was the desert angry now? Angry that four people who had no purpose here were indeed here and 'contaminating' the endlessness of it. He trembled against his pack and tried not to think that way.

Slowly the storm began to ease, the howling fading, and soon they could see the brilliant yellow and orange and pink sky of the sunset's afterglow. Malik sat up, throwing sand everywhere and looked around trying not to panic. He saw a few mounds that as he watched moved and burst open. "Everyone all right?" Ezio called pulling off his goggles, which were covered in grit, to get a better look around.

"Fine," Malik called still a bit unnerved by his own thoughts as he got to his feet.

"I'm alive," Parker called and the other two also gave sound that they were indeed all right as well. "That was… _fun_," Parker said sarcastically as he shook himself of sand, dusting himself off vigorously. "That happens a lot?" he asked Ezio.

"It is the season of storms here, so yes, it does," Ezio said also shaking off the sand. "Usually though we would have our tents to shelter in, but one cannot always have everything they need," he shrugged. He turned back around when Altair said something as he shrugged sand off himself sitting up, though Des did not. "We'll make camp here, it's to dark to continue," he added.

"Is Divinus okay?" Pseudonym asked, she'd noticed as well it seemed.

"Fine, just sleeping," Altair said standing to further rid himself of sand and began to remove the ties at his wrists and middle and calves.

"He's sleeping? How the hell did he sleep through that? It was like fucking banshees out there!" Night cried.

Altair shrugged but didn't answer and Malik had a feeling it was because he didn't actually _have_ an answer.

—

Malik was pretty sure he'd _never_ seen something like the Rift. He could barely even understand how something like it could even exist.

It was a canyon that stretched out before them like the roots of a tree. He could see the strata clearly on the walls, bands of orange and red and yellow and gold like an artist had painted the sides. It was unreal, totally unreal and Malik had never seen anything like it. The beauty of the Rift was awesome and it was like he was looking at something he wasn't to see. He felt his knees shaking as he stared out across the Rift and felt it looking back into him like some ethereal eye. Next to him he heard something drop and though he didn't look he knew that Parker next to him had fallen to his knees.

Next to him Altair sighed, though not in a tired way, or a sad way, but like he was happy. He… sounded happy and that drew Malik's gaze away from the canyon to the Rifter next to him. He too was looking at the Rift as it bathed in the setting sun's light and his gaze was longing and tired and just a bit happy, if anything he almost looked like he might cry from the emotions but Malik knew better than to expect that. Not from Altair at least. Then he spoke, as soft as a whisper, but Malik still heard though he did not understand. He didn't need to understand the word though because he knew exactly what Altair had said; "home".

—

It had been to late in the day for the Rifters to depart that day and they would in the morning. Before that happened there had been quite a bit of arguing, of which Malik was not a part of.

"We can't just let you go," Night was saying, "Volpe gave us express instructions that we were to see you safely home and that's-

"You will not be crossing the Rift," Altair said, voice firm. "Unless you wish to never see your home again. Is that what you want?"

"So what, you wouldn't let us go?" Night demanded acting all high and mighty.

"My brothers and I? Gladly. Our people? Never. You are intruders in our country and if you came with us we'd eventually be found by a traveling clan and they would see what you know, if you are dangerous they would kill you."

"But we aren't," Parker said.

"Then you would be presented before the Inquisition and they would rip your minds apart. You would not remember who or what you are or were and you would be nothing but a shell. You people may not be dangerous but you are valuable, you know the inside workings of your country as well as any priest and that makes you valuable. Once they are done you'd be tossed aside and back into the desert, food for the buzzards and snakes," Altair said. "Perhaps if it was one person we could stop them, but four of you? You are to great a threat to let go. We are secretive for a reason and like the desert once we have you, we don't let go."

There was silence in the camp and nobody spoke. Malik looked between the other movers, they all seemed ill at ease. "So, we just have to let you go on alone?" Parker finally asked.

"It is best. If you cross the Rift… there is nothing for you out there but suspicion," Ezio said. "In case you haven't noticed we aren't exactly friendly."

"No, we hadn't," Night said sarcastically.

"We have good reason not to be when most people who come out here are here to kill our families," Night looked down shamefully. "We aren't telling you because we're bad people, we're telling you so you do not _die_."

"Okay," Night sighed, "You'll go on alone and we'll tell Volpe we took you as far as you allowed."

"Good," Altair nodded. "Consolidate your packs to two bags," he said.

"Why?"

"That is all you are taking with you."

"What!" Parker yelled, "You can't be serious," but when Altair looked at him it was obvious he was. "Why?"

"You have no noticed, but we are not alone. We haven't been since the sand storm. There are… Rifters, following us, watching us, even now," Altair said and they all paled and looked around in the dark. "They haven't attacked yet but they are wary that we're so close to the Rift. No doubt they're wondering what we're up to. Take only two packs you need the rest you will leave here as an offering of good will."

"But that's crazy. We haven't seen anyone at all," Pseudonym exclaimed.

"We aren't seen unless we want to be seen," Des suddenly supplied. "This is an old word you people used to call us before the great division between the world," everyone was staring at him. "I can't remember the word now, for it is old and tired but it still means the same thing; those who hide in plain sight. If we wished it we could be in the same room, feet from you, and you wouldn't know until we wanted you to know."

"And by then you were usually dead," Altair finished. "Those following us are warriors, built and bred, you would not see them until they were cutting your throats," and Pseudonym put her hand up to her neck as she swallowed uncomfortably. "But," he added, "we are not unreasonable. If you leave and leave your things here and show that you do not mean harm of that you have no intention of coming with us, they will leave you be."

Again there was silence, "Sounds fair," Malik finally said since no one else was saying anything, "We'll just have to pack wisely."

"Water is more important than food or warmth," Ezio said, "Pack accordingly," and that was all they got out of the two Rifters really. Busily Malik and the others emptied all the back packs and put all the water they could into one of them and the other they put in the blankets, food and some other items they needed to help them. When they were done there was still plenty of stuff and it was shoved into the remaining three packs. Once they were done it was very dark out and the wind made strange noises through the Rift.

Like they had since they'd crossed the fence Altair said they'd be keeping watch, Altair would take the first shift and Ezio would the second. Malik offered to take it with Altair and the Rifter did not complain as everyone else got ready to bed, curling into blankets to fight off the cool nights.

Altair sat just on the outside of the main lamp they'd set up in the camp so not to get totally snuck up upon, though it was set to a low setting so everyone could sleep, sort of like fire light. Malik sat next to him feeling out of place next to Altair's perfect stillness.

Finally after a while he spoke, "Are there really other Rifters out there? Following us?" he asked.

"Yes," Altair said.

"You can see them? In the dark?"

"There is nothing to dark that I cannot see through," Altair said looking at him, his eyes seeming to momentarily flash gold and Malik immediately understood what he meant. Even in darkness he could see them because they shown like blue torches in he darkness. "I bet they think you're one of us," he laughed dryly.

"Really?"

"From a distance," he shrugged.

"Oh," Malik bit his lower lip. "You said the other day you wished we were dead," he said slowly, "Yet here you are taking care of us."

Altair rocked back and caught himself on his arms. Malik looked him over as his hood flopped down around his shoulders and frowned slightly. "I am a warrior," he said lowly, "I live by the Creed. It says that one does not take the lives of the innocent, one does not allow them to come needlessly into harm's way. I may not like you or your country and I may wish many things, but I will always abide by the Creed," he turned to look at Malik, "It is all I have and all that protects you people from us when we are sent to kill those who earn a feather."

"Would you kill me?" Malik asked.

"I have no reason to," Altair huffed looking away, "You are an innocent-

"I am not," Malik scowled at him.

"To the Creed you are, and that is what matters."

"And what makes someone not innocent?" he demanded.

"When they harm us, when they intend to hurt our people, our way of life," Altair said softly. "Then they become our enemies and we destroy them." Malik frowned but said nothing, "Be glad you are an innocent Malik, and that your friends are innocent, or they would not leave this place alive."

"What about you? Are you innocent then?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he sighed and looked up, "I kill people. I hurt people. I will be rewarded in the end, but I am no innocent."

Malik thought on that, he'd never thought of it like that. People called Rifters monsters, terrorists, murderers, cannibals (which he knew was probably he furthest from the truth), and so much more and so few actually stopped and thought why it was they did what they did. They did not kill by choice, they did so out of need. Need to protect what was important to them while the people of Malik's country were busy trying to kill the heretics and the monsters. It was a terrible cause and effect really and Malik felt wretched for being a part of it.

Malik watched the moon arc across the sky, leaning back onto his arms like Altair was, trying to work up the courage to speak again, to ask what he'd been meaning to ask the entire time. It just seemed like it was never the right moment because Altair and Night were either fighting or the Rifters stayed away from them.

Finally, when it was getting closer to the time for Ezio to keep watch Malik finally said it. "Altair," he said drawing his attention, Altair just grunted, "You said the Rifters watching us probably think I'm one of you," he said. Altair nodded slowly and scratched at the growing hair on his chin from a week without shaving. Malik swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Altair turned to him, looking curious, no doubt wondering where Malik was going with this. "I… could I come with you?" he finally blurted out.

Altair blinked and looked genuinely surprised. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked, "You have a life back in your own country."

"I know but," he looked down not knowing exactly what to say. "It isn't like I _like_ it there. I'm afraid all the time someone will find me and other than Leo I don't have friends outside of the movers."

"And?" Altair knew that wasn't all.

"I thought I could see my brother," he admitted, he was glad for the darkness because he could feel heat creeping up to his cheeks when he said his next words, "And maybe we could-

"There is nothing for you beyond the Rift Malik," Altair said not looking at him and huffing a loud sigh. "Kadar isn't your brother, he is one of us, a warrior, an _Assassin_," the word was foreign to Malik. "He has no place in your life and you no place in his."

"You would say that. What about your own bro-

"If it was my brother who had turned into a Sheep?" Altair asked and turned to him again, amber eyes sharp, "I would be glad he could live peacefully without conflict and pray he was happy."

"That's such a lie," Malik spat.

"Tell me I'm lying," Altair said seriously and Malik tried to, but he couldn't, Altair was totally serious. "As for the other part," he looked forward again, "I was just using you."

"What?"

"Don't sound surprised, it makes me feel bad," Altair frowned. "I was doing what I would do to anyone who would help me find my brother. You were just easier to manipulate," Malik stared at him and felt his mouth go uncomfortably dry.

"You dick," was all Malik could think to say and realized how intelligent he sounded.

Altair looked at him almost crossly, "You didn't actually believe I meant any of those kisses did you?" he asked, "You're a Sheep Malik."

"I'm still a fucking person!" he practically yelled. Nearby someone grunted in their sleep and turned over.

"True," Altair nodded, "But you could help me and I had to do what I had to to make sure he was safe, even if that meant hurting someone," he didn't seem sorry and that was the worst part and Malik wanted to yell at him, to hit him and make him hurt as much as he hurt then. Malik turned away from him, furious and humiliated beyond any doubt. "I said before Malik, I hurt people, and that's why I'm not innocent," he said to Malik's back and Malik tried to not hear him.

* * *

><p>I can just feel all the AltMal shippers reading this _hating_ me right now. *cackles*

I'll just save you the future heart break in the next chapter (and you thought it couldn't get worse); there are no happy endings.


	17. Shattered

Malik was facing east when the sun rose. He had not slept that night, he didn't even try. His mind would not let him because all he could think of was how stupid he was. It had been shortly after what Altair had said that he'd woken Ezio and the younger Rifter had taken up the watch. He'd tried to talk to Malik but Malik didn't reply to him or even make motion that he'd heard. If Altair could pretend so easily how effortless would it be for Ezio to just fake his own good nature and friendliness? The idea made him sick to his stomach.

He heard Ezio stand up beside him and stretch, working the kinks out of his back from a long night sitting and keeping watch. "Hey King," Ezio nudged him with his boot once he'd finished his stretching and Malik could hear the others waking as well, called from sleep by the harsh light of the sun. Malik finally turned to him, looking up into the shadow of Ezio's hood. A frown creased his face and Ezio crouched, "Are you okay Malik?" he asked in a soft voice so the others couldn't hear.

"Perfect," he growled.

Ezio's brows furrowed, "Did my brother say something to upset you?" he asked.

"What do you care?" he snapped.

His frowned deepened, "You are a friend, I should care." Malik just made a disgusted noise in his throat and looked away, staring right at the sun. "Malik?"

"Right a friend," he said sarcastically, "I thought I was just something to be used and tossed out once I'd finished being useful," hurt and anger showed in his voice but he didn't care.

"Did Altair said that?" he asked and Malik's silence was his answer, "Please don't think that way. Both Altair and I are grateful for your help, without you we probably would not be here, or else Des would probably be dead," and Malik frowned deeply now. "If he said anything that upset you I am sorry, he's just under a lot of stress at the moment."

"And how is that?" he turned, riding on the anger. "Soon you'll be back where you belong."

"Yes, but we could still be attacked," that startled Malik and the confusion must have shown on his face, "We're still strangers to the others watching us," he said, "He's worried we'll be attacked and worried you four won't make it back to the fence."

"No he isn't," Malik growled meaning the second part.

Ezio sighed and sat down next to him, "Let me tell you something Malik," he said looking at the sun which had finally and fully breached the horizon as an orange ball. "I know what my brother did, about your agreements," Malik felt his cheeks burn in humiliation. "He did what he had to, because that's really all he knows. We, he and I, came from a family, a people, where no matter what, you must always protect those that need protecting. Altair knows that and that's what he's doing, personal feelings aside of anything that is all my brother knows how to do, protect people till his death. We also keep our promises, no matter what, because without them our society falls apart and five years ago he promised me and Desmond that even if he died accomplishing it he would make sure we both got home.

"When we return Altair won't have anything," Ezio sighed. "We had another brother you know, my elder brother, Altair's twin," Malik stared at him, Altair had never said anything like that. "Without him, Altair might as well be _nothing_," he said seriously, "His skills are halved and so is his value. Still though," he huffed a little sigh, "he hasn't died and hasn't broken his promise and is really just holding on there. He doesn't look it though does he?" he asked turning to Malik. Malik shook his head in agreement and Ezio looked back at the sun. "He was to busy keeping us safe that he never got to mourn really. And now, we're going home and he's afraid. He won't have a purpose anymore because we'll be safe." Malik looked down feeling guilty but trying not to. He hadn't known anything about this, absolutely nothing. "So know that whatever he did to you, whatever he said, it was to keep everyone safe, even you, because that's all he knows how to do and to him that's his entire purpose. If he fails then he is lost."

They sat in a strange silence as Malik digested Ezio's words trying to reconcile those words with what Altair had said to him and his own feelings. "He shouldn't have to carry such a burden," he finally said quietly.

"Yet he carries it gladly," Ezio said, "As I would if he was gone, as our other brother would have if he was here in Altair's stead, as your own brother would if he was in this position," Malik looked at him.

"Altair said you knew my brother," Malik said.

"I did. He was a good warrior, strong and perfectly capable. But I'm sorry, he never mentioned you," and Malik's heart sank further.

"Aquila," Altair called and Ezio turned to look before getting to his feet and leaving Malik to finish watching the sun rise into the sky.

—

He could feel Night's impatience and annoyance when the Rifters were finally ready to leave. Altair was reminding them what they should do and only Night seemed pissed he was doing it. Before Malik would have seen it as cocky confidence to remind them that they were useless. Now though, after what Ezio said, he saw it differently. Altair was reminding them so that he didn't have their deaths over his head should something go wrong.

"Is that all?" Parker asked, unlike Night he was actually paying attention and was attentive.

"That is all we can do," Altair said with a slight, tired, sigh. It was only now on this day that Malik realized how tired Altair sounded, how bone weary he was as if he just wanted to crawl into bed and never wake up again. "Get to the fence as quickly as you can for once you leave us you'll be on your own." He'd said the movers leaving them, not the other way around and what Ezio had said struck another cord. Altair was a protector and even if he might not like them he was doing everything he could to protect himself, Night, Parker and Pseudonym.

"And what about you three? You aren't taking any supplies," Pseudonym asked worriedly.

"Our fellows will find us before we're in need of them once we're beyond the Rift. They will supply," Altair said.

"Not even water though?"

"Worry for yourselves," Altair said annoyedly.

Pseudonym frowned but nodded, "Okay," she said softly, "Lets go you guys," she said. Night needed very little invitation and turned without any hesitation and left, saying nothing. "Safe passage," Pseudonym said smiling sadly at them and turned as well.

"Safety and Peace," Ezio replied as Parker turned. Malik stayed for a moment longer before following as well and he heard the Rifters head towards the great canyon before them. He looked down as he walked beating himself up for this and when he looked back he saw them nearing the edge and he stopped, rooted in place. He turned to the movers who hadn't noticed he'd stopped but when he went back to the Rifters he saw that Altair had stopped and was staring at him hard, as if to say 'go on already'. He knew Altair wouldn't leave until he actually started after the others because that was how he was, he would make sure everything was as it should be.

He took a step toward the Rift and then another till he was walking back to the edge of the canyon. "What are you doing?" Altair demanded and he saw from the corner of his eyes Ezio and Des stop and turn as well. Malik stopped in front of him and looked up at him and he could see Altair's eyes in the dark shadow of his hood. "You do not belong here Malik," he growled.

"I know," he said swallowing and felt sweat trickle down the side of his neck in the heat. Altair just gave him a hard look before his face washed over with shocked surprise when Malik reached up, pulled him down a pressed a firm kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered and let him go before turning and walking away quickly. He told himself not to look back, to not look back, to not look back.

But he did, a quick glance over his shoulder. Altair was still standing there looking shocked and maybe a little bewildered. Then in that moment he looked away from Malik and followed his brothers. Malik looked forward again swallowing thickly and taking off his glasses because he suddenly couldn't see out of them as they blurred the world around him. It took him almost to long to realize that it wasn't his glasses that were making everything blurry though when he felt something wet slide down his cheek as everything he'd wanted vanished over the edge of the Rift.

—

Malik felt unbelievably tired when he he went up to the door and knocked. As he waited he ran his hand along his jaw, feeling the familiar stubble of a day old shave. He was so tired. It had taken a bit longer to get home than it had to actually get out to the Rift and now Malik just wanted to sleep. He couldn't though because whenever he closed his eyes phantoms were projected on his eyelids. It was either that last glimpse he'd had of Altair or the day they'd crossed the fence. They'd been all happy to almost be home, just a few more days when Parker had noticed them.

Five of them standing in the distance like pure white sentinels against the gray-yellow sand and dirt. Their forms had been a bit hazy in the heat but they all knew what they were looking at: Rifters. Even from the distance Malik could make out their white hoods and red sashes which stood out against the background and he repressed a shiver. They'd been following them the entire time and only now had they decided to show themselves, just like the brothers had said.

"Fuck me," Night had muttered staring at them. "Lets go before they decide to climb the fence," and they'd left.

That had been five days ago and now Malik was back in the capital of his own home and fighting his body's urge to become horizontal. He'd been glad to be home when he first reached it and had showered off two weeks of filth and sand and dirt and shaved off the beard he was cultivating. That had been yesterday though and he hadn't slept last night.

Finally the door in front of him opened and Salai's curious eyes met his striking immediately into worry. "Hello Salai," he said softly swaying a little from fatigue. Not only had he not slept last night but he hadn't slept very well at all on the way back or since they'd left the Rift. "Is Leo home?" Salai nodded, "May I come in?" again Salai nodded and quickly pulled him inside, ushering him to the living room where Leo was as well as two people Malik recognized and disliked at least one of them with a passion.

Salai cleared his throat loudly and drew everyone's attention. "Haven't you taught that pet of yours not to interrupt?" one of them asked and Malik glared at him.

"This _pet_ is announcing Leo's best friend's presence, so kindly keep your thoughts to yourself Lorenzo," he spat, even though he had nothing against the man the other pissed him off enough for the both of them.

"Malik please," Leo jumped to his feet to went to him, "I am sorry Lorenzo, please excuse my friend, he's just returned from a very long trip."

"Oh he has?" William asked raising his brows at him, "It must have been quite a trip if he wasn't even there for his friend's grand opening," he sneered and Malik refrained the urge to punch him in the face. William Montferrat was one of the most well known kennel owners in the entire trade. He owned more kennels than anyone and Malik enjoyed destroying his the most, and it had nothing to do with the fact that his parents had originally sold him to a Montferrat kennel.

"If you'll excuse me gentlemen," and Leo dragged him away. "Malik what is the matter with you?" he hissed once they were out of ear shot, "Those men are my guests and my patrons."

"I'm sorry Leo," he said tiredly, and for a moment Leo seemed to be about to smile, "but I could care less." Leo's brow furrowed with an upset frown.

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded softly.

"I'm tired," he sighed.

"Then go home and sleep," Leo said almost scolding him. Then Malik's face fell, "Malik? Is something wrong?" and he gave a little startled yelp when Malik hugged him tightly. "Malik?" he asked now sounding very worried when Malik pressed his face into his shoulder

"I'm glad to be home," Malik said wondering why his words tasted so incredibly sour.

"I'm glad you are too," Leo said hugging him back, "Just… excuse me for a moment," and Malik let him go. He quickly went back into the living room and Malik heard him talking to Lorenzo and William but he didn't really care to hear what they were saying. He pressed his hands up to his face, rubbing tired eyes with his palms. "Malik," Leo was back and Malik pulled his hands away and his glasses set crookedly across his nose. "What happened?" he asked and fixed Malik's glasses since he was incapable of doing it himself it seemed.

"It's a long story," Malik sighed.

"Tell me," and Leo dragged him back to the living room where they sat. "Malik," he said worriedly.

"I don't even know where to start," Malik groaned sitting back tiredly.

"Well why don't you just start at the beginning?"

Malik nodded slowly, ""Truthfully I don't know if I could even stay awake to tell it," he said tiredly.

"Well just start, burdens are often easier shared," and Leo reached out and clasped his hand. "I would happily share it," he added when Malik hesitated.

When he said that it was like a dam broke. At first Malik didn't know where he was going, he was just talking at first trying to get it out. Leo just sat there, listening and holding onto his hand, squeezing it sometimes almost like a reassurance. He literally told Leo everything except for what Altair had told him about the Rifters because there was to much to tell for that, to much everything he could barely understand. He barely remembered Altair's threat that if anyone but he or Shaun breathed a word of it Altair would kill them. He thought it lost the feelings in his fingers for a moment when he told Leo about the second deal he'd made and watched his face flicker through emotions though he didn't say anything, no accusations, no questions, nothing and Malik was grateful for it. The rest was easy then and Leo's face only became strained again when Malik told him about why he wanted to go with the Rifters and then again when he explained the Templars who'd almost been able to kill them.

He was growing tired, he hadn't done so much talking for so long it seemed, since you didn't want to open your mouth to much out in the desert or sand would fly in. But it wasn't just that, he was emotionally tired too, mentally tired. He was just… tired. He felt a bit like Altair, he wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again because to have to keep on going was almost more painful than death.

"Malik," Leo said gently and Malik closed his mouth and the sound of his own voice ceased for the first time in what seemed like days. "I think you should go to bed," he patted Malik's hand. Malik just blinked at him in a slow tired way from behind his glasses, "You can tell me the rest in the morning."

"I can't sleep," Malik grumbled.

"Why? Malik you're practically asleep where you sit," Leo squeezed his hand. Malik told him and closed his eyes and like he expected he saw the five Rifters standing there in the desert like some sort of foretoken mirage. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I can't remember. Rest maybe, but not sleep," he shook his head.

"I'll be right back, you stay right here," he patted Malik's hand and hopped off the couch. Malik sagged into the couch and his eyes drifted closed though he didn't see the Rifters beyond the fence, this time it was Altair. He was just… perfect and flawless and brave and strong and handsome and-

He shook his head opening his eyes and sat up strait.

He needed to stop doing this to himself.

Leo came back then and shoved a cup into his hand, "Drink," he ordered, "You sound parched." Malik didn't argue, he drank and only then realized how thirsty he was and drained the contents of the cup in a few seconds.

"Thanks," he said putting the cup on the table as Leo sat down again. "Where was I?"

"The fence I believe," Leo said sitting in quiet, partially rapt attention. Malik just nodded and started again but he hadn't even gotten to the part about Des before he felt his tongue become heavy, his eyelids slammed shut and he tipped forward.

He was vaguely aware of a pair of hands catching him and the words, "There there Malik," spoken in a soft tone near his ear as a hand patted his hair, "Rest now."

Thankfully he didn't dream.

—

The following weeks moved at a snail's pace for Malik. It seemed like everything had just been put on hold and everyone was just at a standstill. After life that involved the Rifter brothers everything else seemed to slow, to safe, and to lax. Normal people, Sheep really, didn't move like Rifters did. Sheep were slow and weren't quick to change, reactions were delayed. Looking at it now Malik understood why Altair always called them Sheep, why such a name was even needed, because compared to them it was all to slow, all to safe, secure and boring. Just how sheep were grazing in the field and they were the wolves that stalked the edges of the flock.

A surprise for him had come in the form of Leo when he'd gotten home. Apparently in the two weeks he'd been gone his friend had become famous. That painting of Des had made him a name within days and Malik thought it was funny to watch his friend try and cope with this new fame he had. The title for the piece he thought was especially fitting and brought about so much controversy Malik could cut it with a knife. After all it was a painting of a pet, the lowest rung on the human ladder in their country and he was being given a supernatural title that just eluded to the idea that not everything in the world was as it should be. It was hard not to think so though when it was called 'The Prophet'.

It happened five weeks after Malik had returned home. He could sleep at night now, so that was a plus, he just didn't know what to do with himself anymore. Sure he was a mover, but everything seemed so safe after what he'd done. Father he also probably didn't ever have to work again after the share of Volpe's money had been deposited into his bank account in ten thousand cash increments over the past few weeks. It was an obscene amount of money and he really hadn't cared what the price had been when Daniel had called him telling him about the job; he'd just taken it with barely a thought. So to actually see it in his account was a bit of a mind fuck.

He was over Leo's, as he often was, in his studio watching him paint. He had a million photos of the Rifters, taking them rather secretly the entire time they'd been lived with him and was painting certain ones. It had become an obsession and a passion as of late and his studio was littered with finished and unfinished paintings of the brother doing all sorts of things. The part that was probably most important though were the collars around their necks because Leo did not paint them out like so many artists did. There were some Malik especially liked, like the one of the three brothers sleeping in the bed with Des in his duel casts, or the amazingly up close picture of Altair stretching and showing off a muscular back, one covered in pale scars but Leo hadn't painted in the wings.

Leo was currently not painting one of the brothers though, amazingly enough, but Francesco, who was being amazingly patient and still. He had to wanted to do a series of all of the children he cared for and sent to school. Malik would like to see how long that endeavor lasted before he got bored though. When Leo set out to do something he always got distracted or disinterested in it, however when it just came to him it was when he could create things that were magical.

He turned when the door opened hurriedly when Salai came into the studio looking flustered. "What's the matter Salai?" he asked and the teen flapped his hands in a way that Malik knew was sign but couldn't understand. "Leo," he prompted and the artist tore his eyes away from his painting and saw Salai.

"Slow down you're not making any sense Salai," Leo said frowning. Salai took a deep breath and with a new deliberateness signed out what he wanted to say. "He says there's something on the news," Salai nodded rapidly and grabbed both their hands and began to pull. "Ah! Salai what are you doing?" Leo cried in surprise but the pet said nothing and just pulled harder. The red head dragged them out into the living room, Francesco trailing behind, and the TV screen was frozen on some news reporters face. "Salai, explain yourself," Leo demanded sounding annoyed.

His response was to pick the remote up from the coffee table, point it at the TV and unfroze the screen. "We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking news strait from the capital. On Friday, September the thirteenth, year three hundred and fifty-eight of our Father at approximately ten this morning the Holy Father was found killed in the State House," other than the reporter there wasn't a sound to be heard in the entire house. "According to our sources in the police he was found by his wife lying in bed with his throat cut. Currently there are no leads but the FBC are assuring everyone that they will catch who did this and bring them to justice. This has been a breaking news announcement," and the screen cut back to the normal program.

"Father," Leo breathed.

"Was there anything more Salai?" he asked and the red head shook his head. Malik didn't believe that for a second. The entire thing stunk of Rifters. He grabbed his Operator, leaving the living room to go into the side yard and quickly pinged Shaun. The man picked up on the third ping.

"Hello?" the electronic voice asked over the speaker.

"Shaun. Did you see that breaking news?"

"I most certainly did. Quite a wonderful bit of work if I do say so myself. The Holy Father killed right in his own home with all that security."

"Does it seem fishy to you?"

"I was waiting for your call, the news is already five minutes cold and since then I've been looking into the situation. Indeed the Holy Father was killed in his bed and his throat was indeed cut, however, what the media didn't say was that whoever did this left a calling card."

"What?"

"What was that?" Malik asked carefully and looked towards the tall fence that contained the yard.

"There was writing in blood on the wall. I believe it to be his but we'll have to wait for the police to test it."

"What does the writing say?"

"'The Prophet lives,'" and Malik's mouth went dry and his eyes widened.

His mind spun, "Can you get a picture?"

"Already done, and sending… now," said the electronic voice and almost immediately the Operator dinged and he tore his ear away from the device and looked at the new message. He paled at what he saw but there it was clear as day as though someone had used a paintbrush were those very words.

"Can you do something for me Shaun?" he asked putting the Operator back to his ear.

"Maybe. Why?"

"Put this picture out onto the Net."

"Why?" he asked again.

"For the obvious reasons of course."

"Which is?"

"Chaos."

"Oh, I like the way you think Malik. Consider it done," and he ended the conversation.

—

The next day another politician ended up dead. He was in his bed and his throat had been cut. On his chest the police had found a picture. It was first thought to be a copy of the now famous painting by Leonardo Vinci but upon a closer look it was revealed to not be a picture of the painting but rather a photo. It however captured the same heart break, the same sadness and the same fury that had made the portrait famous. After the photo was leaked and along with the photo of the room of the Holy Father with the words written in blood there was not stopping what was to happen next.

The Prophet Lived.


	18. Evolving into Black Eyed Monsters

Some of you indeed got it right in who our final POV would be. All I have to say is... god damnit Desmond why do you think so much!

* * *

><p>The sky outside the window was wide open without even clouds to mar it's surface except for at the horizon where the startings of one of the seasonal sand storms sat like a lion on the horizon ready to pouch upon the city. Or maybe an assassin ready to strike with blinding speed. The city before him look his breath away, as it always did because it was beautiful. He couldn't remember ever seeing the city before recently either since so much of his childhood had been spent away from here and away from these lands and instead he'd been locked in a world where he might as well have been deaf and mute for how well he understood the language. He could barely remember his own parents, let alone this city and all he knew of them were through his brother's eyes.<p>

Below him stretched the city of Masyaf. It was not a city like the ones from that other country which sprawled across a vast landscape and consumed everything it touched, but instead was small in comparison and robust. It was not a jewel of a city, it didn't glimmer in the sunset, but it was beautiful. Unlike the cities of the other country that were fragile as glass Masyaf was like a knife, efficient, beautiful and strong. It was the city of the Assassins, a safe haven from storms of nature and of steel and no one had ever found it. Much like the Assassins themselves Masyaf was invisible unless it wanted to be found like a desert oasis that when up came upon it was really just a mirage and water was still out of reach. The city spiraled out from the center piece of everything, the proverbial center of their existence, the great fortress of Masyaf with it's many levels and winding hallways and vast grounds where you could constantly see novices training. At the highest levels you could hear the true howls of the wind, especially during a storm. You could also hear the hum of the Animus which was a constant drone like a prolonged bell tone.

On the other side of the room there was a knock at the door, a quiet and polite knock making Desmond turn away from the glass window and the beautiful city and the storm that was coming in from the west. He padded quietly over to it and opened it just a bit, as wary as ever. One of the black garbed guardians stood there, his hood up and it shadowed his eyes and upper part of his face. They were the protectors of prophets who lived at this high level and tended the Animus. "Yes?" he asked holding the door so he could close it if need be.

"Divinus," the guardian bowed his head politely to him when he spoke, "your Sicarius has returned from his mission," he said, his tone measured, reserved, and respectful.

Desmond fought a moment to keep his composure, "Thank you for telling me," he said managing only that before he closed the door and finally that smile broke across his face. He threw himself down onto the rug covered floor and pulled on his shoes tying up the laces quickly and grabbed his coat from where he'd left it on the floor. It was not cold out but the fabric was light and represented his rank since he did not chose to display his full sleeve tattoo to the world. Once he'd taken the time to at least button one button he left his room, he couldn't be bothered with the rest.

Outside in the corridor it was quiet with only the distant hum of the climate controller to be heard and the just as distant throb of the Animus which permeated every inch of the upper floors and if you put your hand on the walls you could feel them vibrating. The walls at these upper levels were made of sandstone and lined with large glass windows that let in so much light the normal beige stone was practically white. As he made his way to the stairwell he passed a few of the dark robed guardians and as he did they uttered a soft greeting and dipped their heads in respect before he was already out of sight of them and climbing down the warm stone staircase that led to the lower levels.

The levels of sandstone were the oldest in the great fortress, though technically built last they had never been touched but severe alterations or renovations out of fear that they would somehow disrupt the Waters of the Animus. When he left the staircase a few floors down he was greeted by the darker stoned hallways where the warriors lived and trained and worked. There was far greater activity down here than in the halls of the prophets with people moving in and out between rooms and down the hallways. As he walked the halls he received very different reactions from each level of warrior. The pale gray robed novices shoved themselves up against the wall, heads down barely able to look at his shoes and whispered a subtle greeting that Desmond could have barely heard even if he had been paying attention. There were also the regular warriors who gave a poised greeting as they stepped around him as well as a dip of the head their own white robes marking them as above the novices. Their greetings, though loud enough to hear, also went unnoticed, they just went right through Desmond's head because he was intent on his task.

Then of course there were the few and proud warriors who from their very existence and near perfection gave their entire people their names: Assassins. They wore the same white as a normal, winged, warrior, but wore a mix of leather and metal armor that did not accompany usual warriors who simply traveled the desert. They all wore beaked hoods up, hiding their faces but not their intent and the few that passed Desmond looked at him with the greatest respect but also desire because of what he was. The assassins were the takers of feathers, the strong arm of the prophets, who ventured out beyond the borders of the desert to kill those deemed punishable by them and they all strove for the same thing, for the same glory, to become a guardian of the sandstone stories. When Desmond passed them they did not offer words, merely a bow of the head, though he still felt their eyes on him, coveting him and all others like him.

When he stood for one of the elevators everyone gave him room and no one got on with him. Only the uppermost stories were not connected to the rest of the fortress in this way because to do so would cut strait through the Animus. But in the lower floors there was this connivence. Below the dark halls was where the rest of the fortress worked, where the city was run and where the normal populous was allowed to go. It by far was the largest part of the fortress though not nearly important as it might have wanted to be. Yes it kept Masyaf running, yes it ensured that the city was always well defended and stocked with food, water and luxuries, but no one doubted that those of the higher levels responded to a higher calling, ones closer to God.

On the first floor was the grand foyer from which everyone had to pass through to get anywhere in the fortress. The foyer was by far the largest open space in the entire building with a huge golden mosaic that depicted desert flora and fauna and covered most of the floor between the two large winged staircases made of green and white marble and gilded silver that ran in curved arcs along the side of the room. Desmond stopped at the landing at the top of the stairways and leaned against the cool banister watching people walk in and out of the building or across the foyer. Now he had to wait. The guardian had said he was here, of course that just meant he'd come home to the city, that wasn't literally _here_.

He drummed his fingers across the stone, ignoring the people around him as best he could as they passed and spoke quiet greeting. He could still _feel_ them though, watching him, their eyes fixed to him like glue and he repressed a shutter of dislike. Then he perked up when a familiar figure crossed over the threshold. "Altair!" he called as he scrambled down one of the stairways.

His brother's name made people turn and look, it was hard not to. It had been five years since they'd come home and their story had already become legend with the names of his brothers carved into history by the tip of a knife. Five years spent in a hostile country, at their mercy and treated as slaves and still his brothers had returned in form, as though their skills had never dulled. It was truly an amazing tale that became more fantastic with each telling and reached across their entire country even touching the clans that rarely came to Masyaf or even into contact with others.

Desmond didn't need such a story to make his own name though, he was making one without them and without ever drawing a blade, not an easy thing to do when prophets were rarely remembered by name but rather what they had seen. It couldn't be overlooked though that he was only twenty-two and already prepared to sit upon the Council of Five, the ones who held the whole of the Animus practically in the palms of their hands and who answered to no one except each other. The only way that was possible was because of his own skill, his own abilities and it was widely believed to be the most powerful prophet that had been found in longer than any of his brothers could remember, and when a prophet could not recall something that was a long time indeed. All that remained was his Sicarius, a personal guard and one who was unerringly loyal and if need be be their strong arm to get what needed to be done and push their weight around. They were above the Assassins, above even the black robed guardians who walked the sand stone halls, they were the eyes and the blade of their prophet and their skills were surpassed by none. It was especially important for Desmond to have a capable Sicarius since he was so young and he needed to show that he simply could not be pushed around because of his age.

Altair turned as well to the sound of his own name and a brief smile flickered across his visage as Desmond ran into him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him up a few inches before setting him back down. Altair was to be his Sicarius, Desmond would have no other since he could trust no other like he could his brothers and Ezio did not have the skills to take up the mantle. He'd gotten better since they'd returned to Masyaf, but what the Borgia had done, in such a short period of time... it wasn't something that was easily fixed or even could ever be truly fixed. But Altair was his big brother and had always protected him and kept him safe and even when he'd wished to just finally die in that cellar Altair had appeared like some sort of miracle and saved him. There was no one else who he could think of to do what he needed to do.

"Hey Des," Altair said once he let him go, his face serious but eyes light. Desmond had since grown out of his childish nickname but to Ezio and Altair he would always be their kid brother, always Des.

Desmond grinned at him, "You completed your mission," he said, it wasn't a question, it was a statement, because Altair would not be here unless he had finished it. This was after all his last mission, the final stroke that proved he had the skills to become more than just an assassin.

Altair bowed his head slightly and reached into a side pouch that hung around his waist, "As you commanded Divinus," he said and if he hadn't produced the feather Desmond had sent him for the younger man would have frowned and scolded his brother for using his title. That was the one thing he hated, Altair calling him that. He tried not to get too upset though since his brother was so traditional and unlike Desmond had lived, sweat and killed by the laws of their people before he'd even been marked as a prophet. Desmond hadn't, a quarter of his life had been spent in a country not at all his own and he was still struggling to make up the difference. However Altair did produce the feather, the primary of a harpy eagle and stained the color of rust from the dried blood. Anyone who had been looking now looked away, for a feather was not for their eyes, not down here.

Desmond took the feather and held in gently between his fingers, careful of the dried blood on it. He turned it slowly in his fingers and could already feel the pressure building up between his eyes like a bubble settled inside his nasal cavity. Before it reached a bursting point he handed it back to Altair. "Good," he said as Altair slid the feather back where it belonged. "Show me," and Altair gave a slight nod before following Desmond back up the green and white marble stairs and up towards the warrior halls. As they left the elevator they came upon a great group of novices who immediately looked away as the doors slid open and parted like the sea in the old stories as Desmond left it and found the nearest stairs.

Up in the pale halls of the prophets one could see the whole of Masyaf and the desert beyond as quickly the storm that had been on the horizon was now much closer and if Desmond had cared to look down he would have seen the novices who'd been outside the elevators leaving the fortress to spread the news to those who weren't aware and ensure the city properly braced for the storm. But Desmond didn't look, he didn't need to, because he _knew,_ he could _feel_ them, like he could in some way feel everyone in the fortress, their life beating to the same pulse as the Animus.

Inside Desmond's room there was no worry of the encroaching storm. The place was pristine with walls painted the color of copper and floor covered in comfortable rugs and pillows with great windows that allowed for an uninterrupted view of the desert. There was no bed in the idea that he'd had for those five years away from here, just a mat on the floor and a hammock which had been confusing to get used to. The most important feature in the room though was the Wellspring, the source of the Animus in Desmond's room and from which the Waters flowed. They were set under a clear glass floor that churned with icy fog which was why up here the climate controller blew hot air instead of cold. Over the glass were more pillows, mainly to separate those who sat upon it and did their work so they didn't get cold.

Altair sat on the pillows over the Animus as he pulled his hood down revealing his face in full. He'd shaved his head recently, not a big surprise, and less than an inch had only grown back. Desmond could still remember when both Altair and Ezio's hair had been longer, especially Ezio's. But that had been the style there. Here warriors wore it short, almost bald, and usually more than not had it long enough to be a buzz. It made them look fierce, but also was practical as of kept their heads cool under the hoods and didn't allow for whoever they were fighting to grab hold of their hair and pull on it.

Before Desmond himself sat he plucked the golden Apple from it's place near the Wellspring. It was a large thing with special geometric grooves cut into it's surface and when he held it the metal seemed to breath in his hand, or maybe pulse like a heart, and like the Animus the Apple seemed to be alive. He rolled it between his fingers in a familiar way as he sat across from Altair. This was why trust was required between a prophet and his guardian, because their relationship was more intimate than any Desmond had ever seen. Prophets just didn't see the future, or remember the past, they recorded history and passed what they knew through their memories and their Apples. They weren't strong though and didn't leave the city of Masyaf often, instead they sent their most trusted allies, their personal guards, and through them they lived important moments, critical to history, including the deaths of people who warranted a feather. Nothing was secret and nothing was sacred between a prophet and his Sicarius, they needed to trust each other and Desmond trusted no one save for his brothers anymore and Altair knew that.

"Ready?" Desmond asked as he shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He'd learned to sit still since he'd come home, to find that perfect quiet within himself, the stillness unlike his brother's which was more like a barely contained storm. Beneath the surface of the glass the Waters of the Animus roiled and the icy fog rolled lazily against the floor like ethereal clouds. Altair only nodded and closed his eyes, reaching a hand out. Desmond took it and threaded their fingers together before putting them both over the Apple. He could feel Altair's heart beat, his breath, as if it was his own breath and it hardly took any time before for the cold of the Animus and the darkness behind his own closed eyelids to fade away into the white rivers of the Animus.

When he opened his eyes again he was looking through Altair's eyes. His breath was Altair's breath, his thoughts Altair's thoughts, but he had no control here. He was just a bystander, someone who could only watch history unfold yet remember it as if he himself had lived it.

He recognized where he was immediately. He'd seen it many times in Altair's memories and as well as his own. A long, quiet, street lined with large, fine, homes where the front lawns were kept perfectly trimmed. But this was not truly the street he'd left five years ago. It was to quiet, far too quiet and several of the houses were abandoned, their lawns forsaken and the words 'The Prophet Lives' scrawled in spray paint across their stucco walls. His eyes narrowed reading those words. When the idea had come from the higher ups Altair had been the first to protest, of course he had been, since he'd spent so long ensuring that his brother was safe and wouldn't have to be _used_ like that only for them to come around and spit in his face. It had enraged him and if it hadn't been for Des he would have done something stupid and probably ended up dead. He'd been nothing then, something broken, something _useless_, like a dull blade, even with his skills he was nothing of what he had been when Federico was alive.

Altair turned his eyes away from the graffiti scrawl and looked at the house before him. He was here in the capital for a specific reason, and that reason lay heavy in his pocket like it was made of lead but really was something so fragile a child could snap it right in half. It was just a feather, but it was his _last_ feather, and it had been given to him by his brother and he had a mission and he couldn't let his brother down. He'd only ever let him down once and it had cost them all, he'd never allow it to happen again.

Besides that though he had another mission, one just as important. It involved the house before him, untouched by the swarming darkness that plagued the so called pristine nation under the Father of Understanding. People were unhappy, they were angry, there were riots in the streets and kennels were being destroyed by movers at a much swifter pace than any time before. As the old world and way of life was coming another was being born, a renaissance if you would. But here, on this street, this house was untouched. For good reason too since everyone knew who lived there, it was a famous house now. The so called "Father of the Renaissance" lived in that house and though the government wanted to arrest him they couldn't since he'd really done nothing wrong.

All he'd done was paint.

The house was familiar, two story, white washed with an angled roof you didn't see in Masyaf. He'd been here a few times over the last five years though had never seen its main occupant. He could see the high fence that hid the side yard with it's soft grass and hammock in the shade of a tree and the house itself. But now this was his last mission as simply an assassin and when he returned home he'd be above that and above even the other guardians of the uppermost floors. His brother was going to be one of the Five who answered to no one except each other. Currently they were only four when one of them had passed away about two years ago. All that was needed was for Altair to prove himself worthy through examples of his kills because Desmond would take no other sicarius but him and everyone knew it.

That all meant little here though and he swallowed down a set of slight nerves before walking up to the house and knocked on the door. He didn't have to wait long before the door opened. It was Salai and he was both surprised and happy to see him as the few times he'd returned here it had not been to see Leo, it had been to see him, for his brother.

From within the memory Desmond smiled. He liked the red head. They'd both been through a lot, more than they could explain and more than anyone really wanted to know. Before Salai had ended up in Leo's care he'd been hurt, badly, and traumatized by his previous owner who'd cut his tongue out. The mute was surprisingly easy to relate to and the language barrier had lasted only as long as it took Desmond to pull the knowledge of his sign language out of his head as well as put his own into Salai's, so Desmond had a perfect understanding of the signing and through this sharing with Altair so did he. It had been helpful to talk to someone who wasn't his brothers then, who knew _exactly_ what it was like.

For a moment the memory wavered and seemed to glitch, falling out of sync. Altair could feel what he was thinking and there was guilt. There was always guilt. Desmond smoothed his emotions over as a reminder that everything was all right now and that he'd done what he could. The memory righted itself once more.

"Hello Salai," Altair said not even bothering to speak the nation's tongue, he knew the pet could understand him.

'What are you doing here? Leo is home,' Salai was obviously confused since Altair had always told him he couldn't be here when Leo was, it was safer that way.

"I know."

'Are you here to see him? Why are you here?' Salai's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Salai, who's at the door?" they both heard Leo from inside and startling the pet.

'What do you want?" Salai asked confused and didn't know what to do.

"May I come in? I'm here to see Leo," he said gently.

Salai blinked before moving out of the way and letting him inside. "Salai!" Leo called again knowing the mute wouldn't actually answer but at least show his face. Salai reached out and grabbed Altair's hand pulling him towards the living room where he could hear Leo talking as well as another that made him react stiffly. Just who he didn't want to see. When they entered the living room Altair saw the two there talking to each other and he could imagine their faces. They sat close together, shoulders almost touching and seemed polar opposites of each other despite their apparently closeness. Salai cleared his throat and they turned. Leo fell off the couch with a frightened yelp. Desmond snickered but Altair didn't even offer a facial twitch.

"By God," Malik said and distinctly he recognized the change from 'Father' to 'God', though he didn't want to think to deeply upon the change.

"Salai, who did you let in?" Leo demanded finally finding his feet under him and standing, he looked warily at Altair, not knowing exactly what to think of the oddly dressed stranger in his house.

It was then that Altair smirked, "Hello Leo, it's been a long time," he said in a language they knew, his accent twisting the words roughly, it had been a long time since he'd really needed this language as well.

At those words recognition flashed through the both of them and they wore mirrored expressions of shock. "A-Altair?" Leo croaked, his eyes huge in his head as if a ghost had just appeared in front of him.

"Yes," he dipped his head as he lowered his hood. The cool air conditioned air made his newly shaved scalp break out into goose flesh and the two Sheep seemed even more shocked than before.

"What are you here for?" Malik asked and Altair's eyes left Leo. Again there was guilt but it was old guilt from when he'd seen Malik then, the present Altair felt none. Desmond knew all about it but didn't like to think about it. Malik was... special. He was a Sheep, he was blue, he had a brother who was an outstanding warrior, trying to become an assassin, and he'd been in love with Altair. That was why Desmond had always found him so _interesting_. He was an anomaly, something that shouldn't exist in itself, a blue Sheep, but also because of what he meant to Altair even if he didn't admit it or recognize it himself. Malik was stability, something his brother had needed then when he'd been holding himself together by hairs, having to keep what was left of his family alive and yet unable to actually mourn the loss of their entire clan and family. He needed it now too, but he had it. He had this, his purpose in life had been returned to him and his family was safe; all else was now secondary. There was guilt though that he'd left Malik here when he'd all but begged to come, wanting to see what was out there, see his brother again, and maybe be with Altair. Only the two first reasons made him guilty and that's actually what made Desmond the saddest. Again the memory glitched, warping at the edges like someone was burning a reel of film.

"You'll see on the news soon enough," Desmond's mouth moved with Altair's words as he spoke them and fell back into sync.

"Was that you? 'The Prophet Lives'?" Leo quickly asked.

Altair's eyes narrowed, "I do not agree with it, but yes, it is us," Altair said.

"Why? No, never mind, I don't really care," Leo said shaking his head, "What are you doing here Altair?"

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said because indeed the two of them did look very worried about that since they were stiff and wary of him and every movement he made. "You know I wouldn't."

"That was before you people started treating ours like sport," Malik said narrowing his eyes at him.

Altair just sighed and rolled his eyes, "Why do we do anything Malik?" he asked him, "For the same reason _I _did _anything_," and Malik blinked at him. "We just want peace, to be left alone, and now we have a chance to change things and make it so. So we are."

"Half of our leaders are dead," Leo said.

"I know," he frowned, "I am sorry, we did what was needed. You'll be glad for it one day."

"Says who? The world is falling apart-

"Des says so, and no one doubts him, because no one can see the way he does," Altair cut him off annoyedly. "He's saved you both more than once because of what he sees."

"How?" Leo asked.

"It wasn't an accident that Garnier fell from that platform during his last public appearance," and watched Leo pale. The man, a priest, had been one of the main supporters in trying to get Leo arrested for treason on the account that his painting was being used to fuel this chaos. However before he could fully act upon it he'd fallen off a platform during a fundraiser and broken his neck, killing him instantly. After that no one had been to keen on publicly showing dislike towards the artist since the general public loved him and were outraged by Garnier's public accusations about him being a terrorist. "I don't really have time to go over everything, but my brother and I made a promise, know that we're keeping it."

"Is that all you came here for?"

Altair shook his head then a sort of helpless grin cross his visage, "I'm here now for a totally selfish reason," he admitted. The two Sheep just waited, "Des wanted to see you."

"He did? Where is he?" Leo asked glancing around curiously as if the young man would just spring up out of nowhere.

"He's here," and Altair lifted his hand and pressed a finger to his temple. "Not now of course, but he'll see this. He wanted me to tell you that he's watching you, both of you and won't let anything happen to you."

"How?"

"He's a prophet Leo, how do you think he is?"

"Oh… I admit Altair, I don't really know what to do. But then that's always the case with you Rifters isn't it?"

"That's fine, you don't have to do or say anything. I've seen what I've needed and said what needed to be said. You won't see me again," and he made to draw his hood up.

"What do you mean by that?" Malik demanded.

"It is a danger to be here, as it always is, I cannot be here associating with you and this is the only time we may see each other."

"But what does that-

"Malik," Altair cut him off, "Sometimes questions go unanswered," and he snapped his hood up to cover his eyes. "I'm sorry for disturbing you," he gave them a slight bow of his head showed himself out. As he was closing the door he heard someone coming after them but by the time they opened the door he'd already put himself out of their sight, hiding right in plain sight.

"Damn him," Malik muttered to himself looking cross, "he always does this," and he closed the door loudly.

Altair moved out from his hiding place looking at the door for a moment before he turned to leave. Something to the side caught his attention though and he looked, starting when he saw Salai staring at him from an open window. He'd forgotten about Salai. He glanced back over at the door before going up to the window which was open. "My apologies Salai," he said switching into his more comfortable language.

'I know Des wanted to see Leo but…' he hesitated, his hands momentarily useless and fumbling and not their usual eloquency. 'I miss him.'

"I know. He misses you as well. You were his friend," he huffed a little sigh before saying, "Only one he has really. He doesn't trust anyone else to call them a friend," and the red head frowned deeply. "He wished I could take you to him," that revelation startled the pet out of his sadness and he stared at Altair.

Finally he composed himself enough to ask, 'Why not?'

"Leo needs you still and he knows he can't be so selfish to take you away from him," he said as the memory glitched, seeming to skip, and Desmond could feel his eyes dampen. It was true though and Desmond missed his friend, the one who had that strange broken giggle and didn't talk but rather saw _everything_, just like he did. "You understand?" Altair asked the red head.

'So when he doesn't will I get to see him again?'

"We'll see," he ruffled Salai's curly red hair. "Do you have anything you want to say to him?"

Salai thought for a moment before tugging on Altair's sleeve and he leaned down to be more at the same level as the shorter man. Then with slow motions as if unsure he signed, 'This isn't for you Altair,' and the Assassin got one of the shocks of his life when the pet leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

The memory glitched and pitched before bursting apart into threads of white like someone had ripped apart a ball of yarn. It faded quickly and Desmond roughly lurched to his feet the Apple falling from his hand to bang against the glass over the Wellspring. He felt Altair try to reach out and grab his wrist but he slipped right through, "Desmo-

"Leave," Desmond said his voice uncharacteristically hard, snapping out like a whip.

"But Des-

"I said leave!" he practically yelled. "You're my Sicarius and have to do what I say and I'm telling you _to leave_."

There was a moment of hard silence in the room, only interrupted by the sound of the Animus before he heard his brother get to his feet, the pillows shifting around him as he stood. "As you wish Divinus," he said in a low tone and Desmond heard him open and close the door softly and only then did he look back to make sure he was really gone.

He sat on one of the chairs in the room, slumping down and stared out one of the large windows. The storm had hit while they'd been inside the Animus and it howled and raged outside like some sort of demon battering at the fortress as though it could find a way inside. Desmond sucked in his lips with a frown before pressing a hand over his face and drew his knees up to his chest.

It wasn't fair.

He'd been to young to be anything when they'd been taken from the desert and couldn't remember what it was like there except in dreams he sometimes had or when he brothers spoke of it. The desert and Masyaf they always went on about was something he didn't understand, a memory he'd forgotten to help cope with a world he equally didn't understand and who didn't understand him. He could distantly remember getting his tattoo when he was eight, but it had been so long ago, it had hurt and he'd cried, it was why he remembered it, he remembered the pain. It soon became all the things he did remember, every time someone who'd bought him hurt him, or hurt his brothers. Pain had been easier to deal with, because you could become numb to it and it helped him get over the brutality the Templars had wrecked upon his family. Happiness wasn't something he'd wanted from that life out in the desert because it hurt, it hurt so much, more than any pain he'd had as a pet.

The Borgia had changed his mind a bit. He hadn't been aware someone could be so cruel, so twisted. That sort of treatment had stained him, finally breaking through the numbness he'd built up to cope in that world. He'd wanted to die in that place, especially once his brothers were gone, he would just sit and pray to God to be smited or to be killed, anything to end the torture or the pain of being forced to see and try to translate what he saw into words, all the while the threat of a knife cutting into his skin loomed over him if he did not perform.

He'd been happy to see Altair when he'd appeared in that cellar, but also afraid. Afraid he'd been just a hallucination, a wish of a tired and broken mind as finally he broke under the pressure of forcing the sight without a medium. He hadn't though, he'd been real, and that was somehow just as heart breaking because now he'd have to live through the pain, try to piece himself back together again when he'd just wanted to fall apart. Desmond hadn't trusted anyone after the Borgia, not at first, he'd been hurt to badly to just trust anyone. Eventually he'd trust Leo, but never as much as the man probably wanted him to, but it was all he could do.

Salai though was different. He was like Desmond, he'd been broken, but he could function perfectly well regardless. The first time he'd really met Salai had been when he'd brought Desmond dinner, about the fifth day he'd been there and during one of the few times he'd been lucid enough to recognize the people around him since he was half delirious with a fever and whatever pain medication Leo had put him on. His brothers had both not been there, he wasn't exactly sure where and at the time hadn't cared because he'd been _starving_ (figuratively, not literally as he had at the hands of the Borgia) and like sort of weird fairy god mother Salai had appeared with food.

From then on Salai always brought him his meals and was happy to see Desmond eating because really he would eat anything if it was put in front of him, a trait he had to this day. They didn't talk, they couldn't, Salai was a mute and Desmond had trouble forming full sentences in a language the other man could understand. It was frustrating since unlike anyone else Salai didn't want anything from Desmond. Even if it was something small everyone wanted something from him, Salai didn't want any of that except that Desmond was happy. In frustration one day when he'd still been bed ridden, though was now permanently lucid and not on as strong drugs, he'd _shared_ with Salai. He hated the language barrier because the one person he wanted to talk to he _couldn't_ so he fixed it so they could understand each other. It had hurt without the Animus, but he'd gladly be hurt again to talk to a friend, to someone who understood him.

After that they'd been close, it was hard not to after such an event like that and Desmond knew he liked the red head. He was easy to talk to and smiled a lot, and when he did he meant it, he also blushed at anything which Desmond thought was cute. He would have been happy if they never went home, because then he could stay with his friend.

Then everything had turned upside-down and suddenly he was being told they were _leaving_, going home. Only Desmond did not think of where they were going as home, he didn't have a definition of home beyond where his brothers were because without them he was lost. To him _they_ were home, not some geographical place on a map or some building, they were his family, his everything, all he had. At least until he'd made a friend. He hadn't wanted to leave, he'd rather have stayed, because Leo was kind to him, and Salai made him happy, but at the same time he knew he could never just let his brothers go, and they would not leave without him, but they wanted to go home more than anything.

So he'd gone with them.

He sort of regretted it and was glad Altair didn't know. It was true a prophet and his Sicarius shared _everything_, but some things Desmond wanted to himself. He had better control over his own mind than Altair and so had kept these feelings to himself or he knew Altair would have felt terrible for taking him somewhere he didn't want to go. Altair would gladly give up his own happiness if his little brother was happy in his stead and Desmond couldn't have that, he wanted Altair to have something he wanted for once and not what his brothers wanted. He was too selfless for his own good and Desmond made sure he never knew that he felt this was.

Desmond rocked back in the chair, the winds had started to die now. He'd bee almost angry earlier, angry he couldn't be with Salai, angry that all of this had happened that he'd even been put in the position to feel this way. He knew the laws, Sheep and Assassins did not mix and even the seldom few who were accepted into their society had to fight tooth and nail to make anything of themselves, to become anything more than just a Sheep in the eyes of everyone else. It didn't mean he didn't feel the way he felt.

He couldn't remember how long he'd sat there thinking, remembering, and still wonderfully stunned at what Salai had done. If he hadn't seen it he wouldn't have believed it really, it was almost to fanciful that the quiet Salai would have the guts to _kiss his brother_. Even if it wasn't for him he'd still technically kissed him and now thinking along that train of logic Desmond giggled. Altair had been so pissed in the aftermath of Malik surprising him with that first kiss but this time he'd just been to shocked to do anything. Neither of them had been expecting it and in some way that made Desmond glad. He kept his third eye on Leo, Malik and Salai and hadn't seen that coming, because the future wasn't constant. Anything could change the future, and it was the jobs of the prophets to find the best futures and try to make them happen, and to then witness the events first hand through their Sicarius. But he hadn't seen this, and for some reason that made him indescribably glad.

He hummed to himself and watched the storm die away, the sand sliding down the windows like rain instead of pounding against it, and the sun came back out. Desmond blinked at the sudden brightness and thought about getting up to dim the window but he didn't want to. He propped his chin up onto his knees and stayed that was until the sky began to darken into a pure indigo color. Only then did he hop up out of the chair, his legs a bit stiff from sitting still so long and walked slowly back over to the Wellspring where he'd left his Apple. He sat down on the pillows, snatching up the orb as he did so, and rolled it between his hands in a thoughtful way his mind an entire country away.

Finally he opened his third eye and sank into the pillows as his normal vision ceased to be and the Animus swarmed across his eyes in a flurry of threads and strands. "Show me what I need to see," he said softly, directing himself with his voice to focus on what he wanted to see. "Show me the path I want that won't end in heart break."

The world went white.

-fin-

* * *

><p>Yes, really, that's the end.<p>

Now that I'm done I'll be happy to answer any and all questions you may have about... well, what the fuck has been going on/happened since I haven't at all really (stupid site). You can ask them in comments or at my blog, either way that's where they're getting answered. You can get to it by going to brokenballoons(dot)tumblr(dot)com and even if you don't have a Tumblr you can still ask, just click the "talk to me" button on the right side under where I have some of my writing (which btw half of which I haven't posted here. Hello more reason for you to go check out my blog!) and use the anon ability to ask stuff. If you want. I'll still answer you if you ask it here... it'll just be over there.

Also, in case you couldn't tell, total new OTP= Des/Salai.

And just so you guys know, originally there was a much happier ending where Altair and Malik did end up together. Didn't work though; SOOOOOOOORRRRRRRY!


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